


Harry Potter and the Missing Imagic

by Aunt_Babette



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anti-discrimination, Canon Compliant, Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Secrets, Feminist Themes, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gay, Gay Pride, Gender Roles, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Homophobia, Humor, Innuendo, Keeping Canon Characters in Character, Lesbian Character, M/M, Magical Artifacts, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Mystery, Oblivious Harry, Past Abuse, Post-War, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Queer Themes, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Strong Female Characters, Whodunit?, Witty Dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 151,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23156938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aunt_Babette/pseuds/Aunt_Babette
Summary: Who is trying to bust Hogwarts' security system?What impact have Magical Arts in that matter?Where does Harry’s new pet come from?When does Draco get up in the morning?And why, oh why can’t Harry have one year at Hogwarts without yet another dangerous puzzle to solve?A mystery with a Drarry-romance thrown into it.>>“Oh Harry!” Ginny laughed, “you’ve still no idea why Draco is so tense around you, do you?”“No, I don’t!” Harry shouted, “And I don’t know what’s so funny about that either! First Hermione, then Josh and now you as well – I’m ever so glad you all know what’s going on in Malfoy’s fucking mind, but I certainly have no clue!” He felt quite exasperated.<<
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Original Character(s), Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 364
Kudos: 479





	1. The Sorores Cup

**Author's Note:**

> Canon compliant (DH) with exception of the irritating epilog (EWE). HP/DM – slow burning, mostly fluff, some sexual innuendos.  
> Disclaimer: Potterverse belongs to the brilliant mind of J.K.Rowling. I took the liberty of playing with her characters – and finding them some new friends (OCs!). Allegedly Ms Rowling once said, fanfiction is fine with her as long as it’s still G-rated. Hmmm… I consider a little bit of gay love far more appropriate for kids than torture and murder – the latter are accuratly described in four out of seven canon volumes.
> 
> A special 'Thank you' to P.G.W. for proofreading! Your feedback made me jump and shout of joy!  
> To the *Coolest Of All Great-Aunts* who happens to be my lovely wife - this is for you. Still a Getuem.
> 
> Lovely readers - please leave comments!  
> I rejoice in your comments, they are inspiring and encouraging.

„Fuck!“ Harry shouted.

Head inside of a kitchen cupboard, he had turned abruptly, when something big had fluttered behind his back – thus banging his head on the shelf. Rubbing furiously at the bump-to-be, he stared at a snow owl. The bird had flown through the open window right into the kitchen of No 12 Grimmauld Place and was now sitting atop the kitchen table.

Immediately Harry was reminded of Hedwig which made his stomach twist. But of course this was not Hedwig. This one was definitely bigger – probably male – and glared most indignantly even by the standards of owls, which were all pretty good at staring and glaring.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” Ginny rushed into the kitchen, wand drawn and alarmed.

“Relax. I was just startled, no need to worry.”

“Oh… sorry.” Ginny sighed and Harry wondered not for the first time how long it’ll take them all to unwind after that horrible war.

“It’s okay, Gin… don’t you think we’re already much better at not freaking out about… bits and bobs?” he gave her an encouraging smile.

The mental healer, Harry had been strongly encouraged to see for some weeks after the war, had explained it all to him. Restlessness and being easily startled were to be expected, after what they all had been going through. Symptoms of Posttraumatic Magic Disorder the healer had called this.

“I’m not sure his name’s actually Bob,” putting her hands on her hips Ginny eyed the pompous owl curiously, “he looks more like a Reginald to me. Well, are you going to fetch that letter or not?”

She was at Harry’s place for the afternoon helping him to clear out the old house and had been busy with yet another overstuffed piece of furniture in Harry’s favourite sitting room next to the kitchen, when the owl arrived. Ginny seemed to be quite happy about the distraction.

_Definitely not Hedwig,_ Harry thought, removing the letter. Hedwig had nuzzled his ear and hair whenever near enough, but this one turned his head as far away as possible from Harry. _Could owls snarl?_ He wondered. If that was even possible, he had the distinct feeling that this one did.

“Well, that’s… a surprise,” Harry stared at the coat of arms on the envelope which was well known to him. The Malfoys’ coat of arms. Ginny glanced over his shoulder while he ripped the envelope open. There was something slightly disappointing and even more astonishing about the name at the end of the short letter: Narcissa Malfoy had sent him a letter. An invitation actually.

> _Dear Mr Potter_
> 
> _It is my profound desire to express my gratitude for your invaluable support of our family during the recent trials. As these unpleasant proceedings have finally come to an end with far more lenient sentences for my son and myself, than could have been expected without your testimony, I would very much like to thank you in person for your kindness and generosity._
> 
> _Therefore I would be very honoured to welcome you at Malfoy Manor anytime this summer. Should you consider accepting this invitation, please let me know which time suits you best. Just in case you might not feel comfortable in our house, I want to add that we have a very nice pavilion in the grounds of the Manor where I usually take my afternoon tea._
> 
> _Yours most sincerely, Narcissa Malfoy_

“Don’t go!” Ginny said with feeling. “This woman is dreadful! How dare she order you about!”

“Ginny, don’t,” Harry said, “she’s not ordering me. It’s an invitation. Grant you, the language is a bit odd, but I guess that’s pure-blood lingo?” He grinned and Ginny relaxed.

“Well my family is pure-blood and none of us writes letters like that! I just don’t like her… and you have done more than enough for their lot. Why can’t she leave you alone?”

“She did save my life.” Harry was serious again.

“I know.” Ginny sighed.

“Would you come with me?” Harry asked. “I think that would make the visit even enjoyable. And maybe the scones are nice?”

“Those scones better be delicious,” Ginny pulled a face, “but ok. I’ll be your escort.”

“Escort. Excellent.” Harry grinned and grabbed for a quill to write his response.

***

Harry had moved into No 12 Grimmauld Place, as soon as the Aurors declared the old house safe which happened shortly after his 18th birthday. Up until then he had been staying at the Burrow with Ron’s family. Now he was determined to use the rest of this summer to make No 12 a proper home, which meant going through endless amounts of old stuff and to muck out most of it. All remotely interesting items and for sure everything valuable was long gone, thanks to Mundungus Fletcher. But there was still a lot of junk, especially in the rooms downstairs, where Kreacher had been hoarding mementos of the Black family. Now August was halfway over and Harry had the sinking feeling that his task would not be finished before school started again, not even with one extra month of summer holidays to go.

The board of Hogwarts' school governors had decided that this year the first day of school ought to be postponed until the first of October for most of the students. The delay gave the members of staff more time for repairs, replacing enchantments and even some improvements to the old building. Only the actual first-year students were supposed to begin by September. One month less for the older students should not cause problems for the upcoming year, as all of them had to repeat last year’s lessons anyway. Students and teachers alike accepted this decision without complaint. During the previous year some rather unfit professors had been teaching at Hogwarts and the school year had not ended with O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams but with a horrible battle instead.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had of course missed last year completely as had many other students, such as Muggle-borns or kids from families who resisted Voldemort’s regime. Last year had been all about improving survival skills for them – which were very important skills indeed, but not enough in terms of a proper magical education.

Whenever one of Harry’s friends felt up to it, they joined him in his new home and helped to declutter the old house. Ron, Ginny and even George sometimes just hung around to get away from the atmosphere of grief at the Burrow. Harry did not blame them for needing a break now and then. He knew better than anyone how exhausting it was to grieve and to come to terms with losses. His pain sometimes felt unbearable, especially seeing Molly and Arthur or Andromeda Tonks. _One day at a time,_ he told himself, _just bear it, one day at a time._

Up until now Hermione had spent less time at his house than the Weasley siblings. When she did, she was unsurprisingly the most efficient help, clearing out cupboards and closets with her usual vigour. But understandably enough her priority for this summer was to make up with her parents, who were extremely cross with their daughter for having been shipped off to Australia under a memory charm. Her family trouble was yet another reason for Harry’s nagging feeling of guilt.

***

Not long after the Malfoys’ proud winged messenger had taken off with Harry’s acceptance, Ginny left for the Burrow – and Harry relaxed. He liked to spend time with Ginny, of course he did. But frankly – it was also a bit awkward, especially if they were alone. Harry could not help wondering, whether Ginny was really content with being just friends? Maybe she was disappointed, that he had made no move to hook up again? But Harry had no desire to do that, it did not feel right anymore.

Harry sighed and decided to finish clearing out that bloody cupboard, which had given him the bump. Rummaging around at the very back of the nearly empty shelf, he grabbed an odd cup… or vase… or something? A small item with nice proportions made of fine bone china, painted the wizarding way with a moving picture.

Harry stared at the picture. Three girls were looking at him, obviously sisters. Two of them were dark haired, the middle child was blonde. Although their features were very much alike, their expression was not.

The youngest girl smiled and looked good natured, whereas the eyes of the eldest were full of cruelty, rarely to be seen in a child. She pulled a face at Harry and it did not look funny at all. The blonde girl looked rather shy and insecure.

Harry was in no doubt about the three sisters’ names: Bellatrix, Narcissa and Andromeda Black. He drew a deep breath. There was no denying his entanglement with all three of them.

Andromeda he saw quite frequently, being the grandmother of his orphaned godson, whom she raised. Her recent losses gave Harry lots of reasons for guilt trips. He tried to take Teddy off her hands at least once a week for a few hours, usually at Friday afternoon. And although baby-sitting had been rather awkward at first, he had soon started to thoroughly enjoy the hours spent with his godson – at least as long as the nappy didn’t need to be changed.

Bellatrix was dead. And the only feeling he had about her death was one of pure relief. He remembered her final battle well enough and it gave him the creeps how close Bellatrix had come to killing Hermione, Ginny or Luna. He had been deeply impressed by Molly finishing her for good to save the girls.

His feelings for the third sister, for Narcissa Malfoy, were far more complicated than his compassion and love for Andromeda or his hatred of Bellatrix. Although Narcissa had never been a Death Eater herself, she was married to one, Lucius Malfoy, presently imprisoned at Askaban for his fierce support of Voldemort. And she had raised Draco Malfoy, the most arrogant prick Harry had ever met – who had become the youngest Death Eater ever, before he was even seventeen. But she had also saved his life, there was no denying that. And now she had invited him ‘ _to express her gratitude’_ and he had accepted her invitation.

Harry put the strange little cup on the table. What would Andromeda have to say about that?

***

“I most certainly don’t want that Sorores Cup,” Andromeda said. “You were quite right not to bring it to my home. Honestly if I never see Bellatrix’s face again, that’ll be just fine with me.”

Sitting in Andromeda’s cosy kitchen for their usual Friday lunch Harry suddenly felt a well-known lump in his throat. He admired Andromeda’s strength in coping with the fact that her very own sister had been the killer of her only daughter. _How could she live with that?_ Harry suspected he would go crazy, should a person that close to him ever be so malicious.

The kitchen smelled nice and the sun streamed through the slightly smeary window above the sink… it could be quite peaceful here, Harry thought, as long as one pushed aside any thoughts about Tonks, Remus and Andromeda’s late husband Ted, all of them murdered during that insane war.

“What’s a Sorores Cup?” he asked, partly to change the subject.

“Sorores – that’s Latin for sisters,” Andromeda translated. She picked Teddy up from her lap and sniffed at the baby’s bottom. “Time for a nappy change, Master Lupin – maybe your uncle Harry will take care of that, while I heat the soup?”

Harry took the little tot from his grandma and planted a kiss in Teddy’s hair, which turned immediately a bright shade of pink.

“Look at that, Harry,” Andromeda beamed at her grandson, “just like his mum’s hair.”

Harry smiled. Andromeda’s affection for Teddy seemed to be her lifeline these days. And he could understand that very well.

“So, what’s a sisters cup then?” he asked, “is it just a memento or does it have some specific use?”

“How come you are suddenly interested in pure-blood traditions?” Andromeda raised her eyebrows but did not seem to expect an answer. “Well, anyway. It’s part of matchmaking traditions. Pure-bloods have their children’s portraits taken, all the sisters together on one cup and a candlestick for each brother.”

“Seriously?! You are joking, right?” Harry stared at her. “Cups for girls and sticks for boys – that’s unbelievably…”

“… sexist is the word you are grasping for.” Andromeda finished his sentence placing the pot with slightly more fierce than necessary onto the stove. “Of course it is sexist. You don’t expect pure-blood families to be into gender mainstreaming, do you?” Her sardonic smile gave Harry a flashback of Bellatrix. He shivered and focused on Teddy who entertained himself on Harry’s lap by repeatedly making his tiny nose grow and then shrinking it again.

Andromeda continued, “To make sure that their blood will not be tainted by unpardonable marriages to Muggle-borns, werewolves and what not, pure-bloods pair off their kids pretty early. They have Sorores Cups and Filius Sticks painted and put them on display. So whenever one family visits another they see who is available for their own kids.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief. “And these arrangements are binding?”

“They certainly used to be for our parents and grandparents. My generation was the first to experience some kind of freedom in choosing their spouses,” she grinned at Harry, “and look what I did.”

“Is it still done today? I mean, the pure-blood kids at school, are they all spoken for?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Don’t be daft, Harry, of course not. The Weasleys are pure-bloods but Arthur and Molly would never do such a thing. It might be different for kids from very traditional families, though. I assume their parents let them know what they expect, but I cannot believe that many a kid today is as obedient as Narcissa used to be.”

Harry stared at her. She did not rule out the possibility that someone like – let’s say Draco Malfoy, just for an example – might already been spoken for? The thought alone was stomach-churning. Harry shook his head in disbelief.

“I can assure you, it was not Narcissa’s idea to marry Lucius. He had quite a reputation even among pure-bloods.” Andromeda tasted the soup and then waved her wand to add some herbs she grew in little pots, standing at the windowsill.

“We were actually quite close as kids, Narcissa and I. But as soon as I ran off to marry Ted, she broke all ties to me, as the rest of the family expected her to do. She was never very courageous and after my so called elopement, she was watched and directed even more closely by our parents,” Andromeda sighed. “You know what, I even felt guilty for a while when she got married… made me wonder whether my support might have given her the courage to refuse… I fear my marriage had put even more pressure onto her.”

“You are surely not responsible for her decision!” Harry protested.

“No, I am not. But still… she had to pay the price for her choices anyway. And I am not talking about Lucius being imprisoned,” she hesitated for a moment before going on, “Considering Lucius’ feelings for women this was under no circumstances ever going to be a happy marriage.”

Before Harry had a chance to ask her, what she was hinting at, Andromeda turned around and waved her wand to make pot, plates and spoons set themselves at the table while asking, “Why don’t you give the cup to Narcissa when you have tea with her at the Manor? You will have to bring her some gift anyway, if you want to prove your manners,” she added with a smirk.

“How… why?” Harry gasped. “You know about that invitation?”

“Well… we started to talk to each other again on the Floo some time ago,” Andromeda seemed a little bit reluctant to confess to that. “It all started with a note of condolence she sent me after the war… and I had the feeling she meant it. She is… Narcissa is not a bad person, Harry. I am glad you accepted her invitation and before you ask – it was her own idea to invite you, not mine.”

Andromeda reconciling with her remaining sister – that certainly came as a surprise. Harry did not know what to say, so he started spooning excellent soup instead.

“I see you reserve the nappy change for pudding,” Andromeda grinned picking up her spoon as well. “But do not hope I will forget it’s your turn to do it.”


	2. An Owl Called Otto

“Remind me again – why are we here?” Ginny muttered under her breath as they were walking from the entrance gate up to the Manor the following Sunday afternoon.

“Scones – I guess?” Harry answered and both of them grinned. Joking was easy with Ginny, they enjoyed the same sort of humour.

Malfoy Manor was undeniably beautiful. Sandstone walls, huge windows, cornices and pillars made for an impressive building. But having been here under the worst of circumstances before, Harry felt nothing but repelled by the place. He was glad Ms Malfoy had offered to welcome them at the tea house instead. Still they were supposed to meet her at the front door of the Manor.

And there she was, sitting on a wraught iron chair between the mighty pillars of the front porch. As soon as she saw them walking towards the building she rose and approached them.

“It is so very kind of you to see me, Mr Potter,” Narcissa Malfoy said, “and you Miss Weasley.” With an awkward little nod, she offered her hand, first to Ginny and then to Harry, both of whom were rather embarrassed by this formal welcome and stumbled their reply.

“Shall we go to the pavilion? It is not very far and a very nice walk, I assure you,” Narcissa Malfoy continued and while they took their stroll over immaculate lawns between beautifully trimmed flower-beds and bushes, their hostess continued to make polite remarks about the fine weather, about the roses and the little fountain they passed by. Had her voice not trembled occasionally, she could have fooled Harry. Narcissa Malfoy tried obviously very hard to keep her countenance. _Habit of a lifetime,_ Harry assumed.

Finally they reached their destination and Harry had to admit the tea house was rather charming. Ginny obviously felt the same.

“Oh, this is lovely,” she exclaimed, “looks like a doll’s house!”

The building was the size of a cottage, but with all the features of a villa – bay windows and even a tiny balcony. Its front was painted a soft pink hue and the roof shimmered of copper.

“I am glad you like it. It was actually built about one hundred years ago for the children of the family, to have a play house in the grounds,” Narcissa smiled. “Draco used to be so very fond of it when he was a little boy.”

The thought of a tiny Draco who loved to play in this cosy little building amused Harry. He smirked at Ginny who grinned back. _Where was Draco anyway?_ Harry wondered. Narcissa had not mentioned her son, neither in her invitation nor while walking through the grounds.

“As the pavilion is no longer used as a playhouse, I have made it my habit to take my afternoon tea here. I do not want it to be completely vacant. Shall we?” Narcissa Malfoy opened the door and all three of them had to bow their heads a little under the lintel.

Inside the building the ceiling was fortunately higher than expected from the outside, as the front gave the impression of a two-story building, but actually there was just one surprisingly spacious ground-floor room. Right in the middle stood four rattan chairs around a small table, which was set with teapot and cups. One wall was completely covered by a huge showcase full of china, at the opposite wall stood a settee dressed in pink velvet and a sideboard loaded with plates of tiny sandwiches, tea cakes and scones. Ms Malfoy poured them tea and asked Ginny and Harry to help themselves to some food. Harry and Ginny exchanged a smile – the scones smelled excellent indeed.

“As I said, I am very grateful for your visit, Mr Potter, Miss Weasley,” Narcissa Malfoy said, when they were seated, “I am quite sure you would have plenty of more joyful things to do on such a lovely afternoon.“

She seemed to hesitate before she went on, “You must know that I am immensely relieved, that Draco and I are merely on probation and not imprisoned like his father. For my son’s sake far more than for myself. And I am fully aware, that without your testimony, Draco might be in Askaban as well.”

“Yeah, well… I only told the truth, which is what one is supposed to do as a witness.”

“But you could have refused to testify, no one would have forced you,” Ginny said.

“Exactly, Miss Weasley,” Narcissa agreed, “I am fully aware of that, and therefore I want to express my sincere gratitude. And Draco’s.”

“Where is he anyway?” Harry blurted unable to hold back his curiosity any longer.

“In Edinburgh,” Narcissa said turning her face towards the nearest window.

“What? I thought both of you were supposed not to leave your home?” Harry was annoyed. Instead of being grounded, Draco Malfoy seemed to enjoy some kind of a holiday! And even more so, in Edinburgh, a city, Harry himself had never had a chance to see but very much wanted to.

Narcissa turned back to him with raised eyebrows. “I can assure you, he has no intentions whatsoever of breaking any rules of his probation. He is staying with a distant relative and the Ministry saw fit to allow that. He is grounded at his aunt’s house.”

“Right… sorry,” Harry said, feeling slightly foolish. Of course the Ministry of Magic watched Draco and Narcissa Malfoy closely. He knew that tracking spells had been put onto them, so every single move they made could be traced and controlled. They were not allowed to carry their wands, which had been confiscated by the Ministry and in case they were capable of wandless magic, this was also forbidden to them. Although Harry would not believe for a second, that Draco Malfoy could have mastered wandless magic.

“I brought you something,” Harry said to change the subject and pulled the Sorores Cup out of his pocket and set it on the table in front of their hostess.

Narcissa’s already pale complexion became white as a sheet.

“Merlin, where on earth did you find that cup? Oh, I see… at the Black Townhouse most likely. Oh. Forgive me for calling the house by its old name… I am just used to it… I should probably call it the Potter House…” Narcissa’s voice trailed off. It was more obvious than ever, that she was insecure and quite at loss how to behave naturally in front of her visitors.

She sighed deeply and caressed the cup with a hesitant finger. The moment her skin touched the bone china, something unexpected happened in the painting. While Bellatrix kept glaring, little Andromeda turned her face to Narcissa and kissed her sister on the cheek. Narcissa blushed twice, in the picture and right in front of Harry and Ginny, who had the embarrassing feeling of having watched a very intimate moment not meant to be observed.

Ginny cleared her voice.

“Ms Tonks told Harry about this sort of cup – it’s called a Sorores Cup, right?”

“Quite right, a Sorores Cup it is.” Narcissa said. “And I am very astonished indeed, that it turned up at the Black… sorry, at your house. The last time I saw the cup was in our parent’s parlour,” she hesitated, “where it would have been lost without doubt, as my childhood home was destroyed during the war. I am very glad that you found this cup.” She looked at Harry with questioning eyes.

“You can keep it, if you wish! I don’t want it, and neither does Andromeda. It was her idea, that I give it to you,” Harry said.

“Mr Potter! That is most generous of you, thank you! The Malfoys have been collecting Filial Items for centuries and this one is of course very special to me,” Narcissa blushed again.

Harry was suddenly reminded of Draco’s frequent blushes. Draco Malfoy’s face would turn pink whenever he was embarrassed… or upset… or just startled. More often than not Harry himself was the source of Draco’s discomfort, as he thoroughly enjoyed needling the arrogant bastard.

“You really took me by surprise, Mr Potter, as I wanted to present you with a gift and most certainly did not expect to receive one.” Narcissa hesitated for a moment, before she continued, “As far as I know, you used to keep a snow owl? By the name of Hedwig?”

Harry just nodded. He remembered the most pompous snow owl Narcissa Malfoy had sent to him and was afraid, she might offer that horrible bird to him! He was convinced that this owl and himself shared a mutual disliking for each other.

“Well, the Malfoys have been breeding snow owls at the Manor since the eighteenth century, when the first aviary was built. We’ve had hatchlings this spring and I wanted to offer you one of the young birds… we could have a look at them, if you were interested?” Narcissa Malfoy said nervously. “In case you pick one of them, our caretaker will train the bird for you, if you wish – or you could train the owl yourself.”

Harry was amazed – and relieved that she did not expect him to accept that monster of an owl, who had invaded his kitchen a few days ago.

“That’s… wow – thank’s Ms Malfoy, I’d love to have a look at the young owls.”

Ginny gawped at Harry, but Narcissa Malfoy seemed rather pleased by Harry’s response.

“Well, then… let’s walk to the owlery, as soon as you have finished your tea, shall we?” she said.

***

The following evening Harry presented his new pet named Otto to his two best friends and gave them a detailed report of the visit to the Manor and his strange but all in all quite polite encounter with Ms Malfoy. They were sitting at the kitchen table of No 12 after a dinner of home-made pizza – recently Harry had taken up cooking, mostly Italian dishes. 

“Have you lost your mind?” Ron shook his head in disbelief. “You cannot seriously intend to trust an owl bred by Malfoys?! What if they collect all your mail? Malfoy can spy on you, delay your letters and what not!”

“Oh Ron, come off! Otto is an innocent darling, everyone can see that.” Hermione was smitten by the young owl and the affection seemed to be mutual, as Otto had hardly left her arm all evening. “The Malfoys cannot hex him as they are not even allowed to do magic. As long as Harry trains Otto himself, I think he will be perfectly safe.”

“But that’s just my point! Harry has no clue how to train an owl and neither do we!” Ron said. “It’s a lot of work, training a reliable post owl, everybody knows that.” Otto seemed to agree with that and hooted enthusiastically.

“Relax, both of you,” Harry said. “Otto will not be trained by the Malfoy’s caretaker and neither will I train him myself. I have already made enquiries at that pet shop in Diagon Alley where Hedwig came from, you know, Eeylops Owl Emporium. They will do it for me. Take’s about a month, the training, so he should be ready to go to Hogwarts with me in October.”

"Perfect!” Hermione beamed. “Anyway, how did you know it was Otto you wanted to choose among the owls? I mean, he is a real sweetie, but I guess the others were cute as well?" Hermione asked while stroking the soft patch of feathers between Otto’s ears. The owl tried to return the favour by nuzzling Hermione’s hair, which made her squeak.

"Well, he seemed to be the friendliest of the flock. The other owls just stared and looked presumtuous, rather Malfoy-ish in fact. Otto looked… different, he’s the funniest owl I've ever seen. This stripe of darker feathers, don’t you think it looks a little bit like a tie?”

Harry grinned and patted the bird’s chest, telling him, “Very elegant you are indeed." Otto fluffed up, hooted excitedly and took a spontaneous bow. All three of them burst out laughing.

“Alright, he is fun to have around, I grant you that,” Ron had to admit. 

“I am glad both of you could make it tonight, I really wanted you to see him,” Harry said. “He entertained me all day. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much.”

“And it’s about time, that you have reason to laugh and be joyful again,” Hermione said. “We all deserve that, actually. That horrible war is over and we better get on with our lives which should include plenty of fun for a change.”

"But that’s not exactly what’s going on at the Burrow or at your house… how's the family reconciliation coming along anyway? Are your parents still cross with you?" Ron asked.

"They are coping alright. They still have not forgiven me for the memory charm, but whenever I ask them, what I should have done instead, they are quite at loss. So I guess, they will come around eventually."

"Glad to hear it," Harry said with relief.

"Dinner with Ron’s parents was rather helpful as well," Hermione continued, "Molly's and Arthur’s grief put my parent’s anger somewhat into perspective."

They fell silent for a moment. There was no need to mention Fred's name, they were all thinking of him. The sudden quiet seemed to inspire Otto to do something very much like a tap dance at the table which made them all chuckle.

"How's George holding on? I have not seen him for a while." Harry asked.

"He's rather serious... that’s quite disturbing in itself, come to think of it. Never expected one day I would actually miss being teased and mucked about. He’s busy with the shop, mind you, now he has to get it all done by himself. That’s probably why he hasn’t been visiting you lately… give him a fire-call, will you? I think it would do him good to meet that one, a kindred spirit of sorts,” Ron said pointing at Otto.

“Exactly, it’s so good to see a new face – ,“ Hermione said.

“ – even if it comes with a beak!” Ron interrupted.

“ – honestly, with all the sadness and loss, it’s so important to focus on good news once in a while, and Harry having an owl again, that’s good news!” Hermione continued.

“I agree, Hermione. I guess, that’s how I feel about Teddy as well. No doubt I miss Tonks and Remus, I will always miss them, but spending time with Teddy… it just makes it a little bit more bearable.” Harry said.

“Yeah, good news, like us, being an item!” Ron beamed at Hermione and placed his arm around her shoulder. Otto seemed to be jealous of his new found lady-friend and tried to sit on top of Ron’s arm until Hermione handed the excited owl to his proud owner.

“Sorry mate, but… you two being together, that’s boring old news,” Harry teased, “yours was the most agonizing long-term courtship ever.”

Ron looked very pleased with himself and then asked. “So… what about you and Ginny? Any chance of hooking up again?”

“Ron!” Hermione rolled her eyes, “you are so blunt, it hurts.”

“What? Just yesterday, you wondered, what’s going on between Harry and Gin! And I said, let’s ask Harry! And you agreed!”

Hermione groaned.

“I assume your lovely girlfriend had a slightly more diplomatic approach in mind,” Harry could not help grinning although the topic stung a little. Otto took off from his arm and flew three times around the kitchen lamp before taking a seat at the back of an empty chair.

“But to answer your rather blunt question, I don’t think we’ll get together again.” Harry sighed. “I really like Ginny, hell, I love her, but she feels too much like family for a girlfriend.”

“And how does she feel about you?” Hermione asked. “Did you talk about it?”

“No, we didn’t. It’s awkward. I’m afraid to ask because I don’t want to make it any harder for her. I just hope it’s mutual.”

“Ginny is a strong woman. Be honest with her, Harry, she can take it.” Hermione said.

“Yeah, she’s alright, Ginny,” Ron said, “sometimes quite funny as well. Yesterday evening she gave the most hilarious report of your visit to the Manor, talking like that Malfoy woman with a stiff upper lip – I nearly wet my pants! I think she did it mostly for Mum’s sake, likes to make her laugh.”

“Ginny said, Ms Malfoy offered to help you to get rid of that annoying portrait of Sirius’s mother in the entrance hall? I wonder why she thinks she can do anything about that, when even the best Aurors of the Ministry have failed.” Hermione said. “Not that I’d miss being called ‘ _Mudblood’_ as soon as I enter your house. At least the Aurors were able to remove the other portraits from the hall, so it’s just her single voice anymore.”

“Apparently Ms Malfoy thinks it’s some kind of ancient magic, you know, something about being closely related to that ghastly woman in the portrait. As Ms Malfoy was born into the Black family she thinks she will be able to remove it.” Harry said.

“But in that case Sirius himself would have been able to take the horrible thing down!” Ron said.

“No, Ms Malfoy believes, the Blacks probably banned him for falling out with his family. It’s the same thing for Andromeda, no chance either. So Ms Malfoy offered to give it a try and I think I’ll let her – if the Ministry permits her coming to my house, that is.”

“Wow, careful mate.” Ron teased. “Malfoy’s owl, Malfoy’s mum – what next?”


	3. The Hexed Painting

His new pet kept Harry rather busy during the next few days. Because owls are nocturnal animals they were trained at night, so Otto needed to be dropped off at owl school every evening and fetched again in the morning. The young bird had lots of energy and did not sleep too many hours during daytime either. Otto needed regular meals and as he did not yet hunt himself, Harry had to feed him. The olw wanted to play with his new master and explored his home which basically meant that he turned everything upside down.

Harry still tried to go on with his decluttering project but gave up any hope of finishing all of the rooms before school started. He decided to be quite content if he got the ground floor done and the one bedroom he had finally chosen for himself, which used to be Regulus’ old room. Sirius’ room still felt burdened by the memories of his godfather’s death and reminded Harry too much of those nights when they were still on the run, of nightmares and unwelcome connections to Voldemort’s mind.

One Thursday afternoon Ms Malfoy fire-called to confirm that she had gained the Ministry’s permission to visit his house, in case Harry still wanted her help dealing with the portrait. Despite Ron’s and Hermione’s scepticism he accepted her offer. He too was not optimistic about Ms Malfoys abilities but wanted to let her try anyway. The prospect of having a Malfoy in his house for some hours seemed a minor inconvenience compared to being stuck with that horrible painting forever. They settled on Monday at two p.m. for her visit.

***

When Harry told Andromeda about his decision the next day, right after their usual Friday lunch, he was rather surprised by her response. They were sitting on a wooden bench behind Andromeda’s cottage observing Teddy and Otto, who were mutually fascinated and frightened by each other. The little boy was clutching at his grandmother and not daring to get close to the bird sitting on Harry’s arm. 

“Harry, how would you feel about me being present when Narcissa comes?” Andromeda asked looking a bit anxious. “You see, Narcissa and I have been fire-calling regularly for about two months now without having seen each other in person. She’s not allowed to come to my house obviously and I certainly do not want to visit the Manor. But still… I would like to meet her, to get a feeling about her. It is so weird, you know, we were rather close as kids…”

Harry was immediately reminded of the kiss he had witnessed on the Sorores Cup.

Andromeda continued, “But after I got married we had no contact at all for years. I do not know what to make of her, how far I can trust her… and I think meeting her for real could give me a clue of who she is today. But I certainly do not want to intrude, so please, Harry, be honest with me. I don’t want to be there if this feels even the slightest bit awkward for you?”

“No, that’s actually a great idea, Andromeda – not awkward at all, quite the contrary!” Harry smiled at her while moving Otto from his left arm to his right – Otto had the habit of squeezing his claws rather tightly when he was excited and the sight of the baby-boy seemed to be very exciting indeed.

“Having you with me, that’ll feel like having a backup! To be honest, I don’t like the idea of being alone with her, I mean, she will be accompanied by an Auror anyway, but it’s different to have someone I trust at my side.”

“Oh, in that case, I’m more than happy to come, Harry! I’ll let Cissy know in advance,” Andromeda smiled with relief. “I’m glad you feel that way.” She started rocking Teddy in her lap up and down, who protested loudly because the movement interfered with his stern staring at Otto.

“Will you bring Teddy as well? Or do you want to ask Molly to keep an eye on him while you are at my place?”

“I’m not sure… I would like to have my little sunshine with me of course and it might be rather interesting to see how Narcissa behaves towards Teddy, don’t you think? But maybe it would be too much for him?” she looked at her grandchild with affection and hugged him tightly.

“Nah, I don’t think so. Teddy is a tough cookie… and if Narcissa dares to be the slightest bit unkind to him, you’ll just leave in an instant,” Harry said. “How about you come at noon and we have lunch together at my place for a change? I could treat you to my famous home-made Bolognese and those two,” he nodded towards Teddy and Otto, “could continue with their staring competition.”

***

And so they did. Andromeda stepped out of Harry’s downstairs fireplace at noon with an excited Teddy in her arms. She praised Harry’s spaghetti sauce and after lunch took a good look around the basement of the old house, which she had last seen as a girl. They did not walk up to the entrance hall, to avoid giving Teddy a start by the shrieking portrait of his hostile great-aunt. Finally they settled down in Harry’s favourite sitting room next to the kitchen, Andromeda and Harry sharing the sofa while Teddy and Otto occupied the old rug in front of the fireplace.

It was highly entertaining to watch boy and bird getting acquainted. Teddy – who had just started crawling – being the more daring one, approached Otto. The owl retreated to Harry’s shoulder whenever Teddy got close enough to touch him. As soon as Otto was out of reach, Teddy protested and crawled back to Andromeda’s knees, which made the owl eventually flutter back to the carpet – and the whole thing started all over again. Harry and Andromeda laughed a lot.

Precisely at two p.m. the old clock on top of the chimney’s mantel piece shrieked and announced, “Visitors ascending!” and within an instant Narcissa Malfoy, clutching a worn leather bag, stepped out of the fireplace closely followed by a young Auror. The guy looked somewhat familiar, although Harry was quite sure they had never met before. He was taller than Harry, at least six feet two, he guessed. With his short afro hairstyle and a dazzling smile on his handsome face, he was quite a looker.

Startled by their sudden appearance Otto hooted and took refuge at the highest cupboard as Harry rose from the sofa and cleared his voice, “Thank you for coming, Ms Malfoy and Auror – ”

“Joshua Jordan, I’m Ms Malfoy’s probation officer,” the young man introduced himself and beamed at Harry, “I’m very pleased to meet you, Harry… sorry, Mr Potter.”

“Oh that’s fine – just call me Harry,” he grinned back.

Andromeda held Teddy firmly in her arms and said, “Hello Narcissa, hi Josh!” Seeing Harry’s astonishment she explained, “Josh and Nymphadora used to work as partners for some time.”

“Twenty-six months exactly,” Josh specified, “Tonks and I were partners for a little over two years – and it was so much fun to work with her, the best partner I ever had. I learned a lot.” 

_So maybe that’s why he looks familiar, I’ve probably seen him with Tonks,_ Harry wondered.

“How do you do, Mr Potter,” Narcissa nodded at Harry, before addressing her sister, “I am very happy to finally see you again, Andromeda… and this must be your grandson,” she said approaching Andromeda with a somewhat forced smile on her face. “What a sweet boy indeed.”

Harry was not sure, whether Ms Malfoy was just nervous or if that smile was nothing but faux.

“Oh, he’s an absolute darling!” Josh winked at Teddy who seemed to enjoy the attention and raised his arms towards Josh, obviously wanting to be picked up. Harry felt a sudden pang of jealousy, when Josh lifted the baby in his arms and cuddled him with affection.

“Josh sometimes drops by to watch Teddy, though not as regularly as you do, Harry,” Andromeda said.

“I’ve always had a soft spot for babies… and this one is so very special, aren’t you, Teddy-bear? Such a clever Metamorphmagus you are,” Josh crooned and cuddled Teddy.

Harry gulped. The sight of this handsome young man fawning over a baby was… a very interesting sight indeed. Teddy seemed to feel exactly the same as his hair turned bright pink and Harry was very much afraid his own cheeks might be the same colour. He ruffled his hair, cleared his voice again and addressed Narcissa.

“Well, I don’t know how long you can stay, but maybe you could try taking down the portrait first and then we all can have tea together? Andromeda brought an apple tart,” he addressed the young man, “if that’s ok with you, Auror Jordon?”

“Apple tart is totally ok with me,” Josh grinned, turning his attention from Teddy to Harry, who felt slightly dazzled by the warmth of these chocolate brown eyes, “and call me Josh, please. We can stay for about an hour and a half before we must head back to the Manor. I have to be at the Ministry at four,” he explained.

“Well, in that case I better get started,” Narcissa Malfoy said and turned towards the staircase to the entrance hall, followed by Harry and Josh, who had returned the baby to his grandmother.

“I’ll stay here with Teddy,” Andromeda said, “call me if you need me.”

On the landing halfway up the stairs Ms Malfoy stopped and opened her bag.

“We have talked about it in advance, Auror Jordan, I need you – and you as well Mr Potter – to stay out of sight, when I remove the curtain, which I have been told is draped in front of the portrait of aunt Walburga. I need her to trust me,” Narcissa Malfoy whispered with a look of stern concentration on her face, “which I think she might as she happens to be my godmother.”

Oh, that was a surprise. Harry was curious what she had in mind. To his amazement Ms Malfoy took a rather large painting out of her somewhat dowdy leather bag. Obviously Hermione was not the only woman in possession of an enchanted handbag.

“I will try to persuade Aunt Walburga to visit another painting,” she explained to Harry, “assuming she must be rather lonely after so many years. Even hostile people can get lonely, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess so… but then what? She can come back anytime and resume insulting me,” Harry said.

“No, she won’t because the painting Ms Malfoy brought along is a trap. She will be locked up in it,” Josh said. “You have to admit, it’s rather brilliant, Harry.”

“But… if that’s possible – how come none of the Aurors tried it when they took down the other portraits?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“Because they don’t possess any painting that might tempt her to leave the portrait and they certainly did not have her trust,” Narcissa said. “Malfoy Manor, on the other hand, holds quite a few nasty portraits and I have found my way to deal with them.” She looked fierce. “When Draco was just three years old and having nightmares about his great-uncle Eridanus hunting him down, because Eridanus’ portrait was abusing and threatening him every day, I knew I had to do something. So I got this hexed painting and locked all the nasty relatives up.”

Harry stared at the painting where a group of rather jolly looking wizards and witches sat around a long table obviously having a feast.

“Why do they look so pleased although they are locked up?”

“Because they have no idea what has happened to them. They have no desire to leave, none of them has ever even tried. The hex makes them feel perfectly comfortable where they are. You could say they are a bit drugged,” Narcissa Malfoy said. “Which is all for the better, because they will not try to warn off Aunt Walburga, but instead try to convince her it’s a good idea to join them.”

“Well that’s… brilliant indeed,” Harry was baffled by her plan. “And I assume it won’t be a problem that your aunt is much… bigger than these Imagics?”

Narcissa Malfoy shook her head. “No. Imagics change size to fit in any other painting they enter.” She looked determined. “As I said, stay out of sight and let me handle this.”

She walked upstairs, approached the portrait and raised her hand to the curtain.

Harry watched her closely. From the corner of his eyes he saw Josh drawing his wand and did the same. They stood side by side, transfixed by Narcissa’s move. When Harry drew a deep breath of anticipation, he suddenly realized that Josh actually smelled rather nice. _Must be his aftershave… Sandalwood, maybe?_ Harry thought, surprised by his own awareness.

Narcissa Malfoy started to draw the curtain with the uttermost care and said politely, “How do you do, Aunt Walburga?”

A shrill outcry was the response but it only lasted for a second. “What on earth… who are you… Cissy? Is this really you, Cissy?” the portrait of Walburga Black was baffled.

“Yes aunt Walburga, it’s me.” Narcissa Malfoy nodded.

“I most certainly did not expect you, my dear! What a surprise… what a pleasant surprise indeed!” Harry had never heard the portrait talk with such a mellow voice.

“It is so good of you to visit, Cissy. Oh, what a shame it is, our honourable house in the hands of that dreadful Potter half-blood…,” Walburga moaned. “But tell me dearest Cissy, how come you are here? Did you break into the house?”

“Well, I wanted to see you, Aunt Walburga,” Narcissa replied avoiding the topic of her entrance to the house. “I assumed you must be missing some decent company.”

“Oh, dearest child,” Walburga sounded close to tears, “you have no idea what I have been going through for years… and a few weeks ago some dreadful Aurors had the nerve to remove all the other portraits! I cannot even visit anyone at nightfall!” Her voice seemed full of self-pity.

“Poor Aunt Walburga, I am so sorry for your distress.” Narcissa sighed. “I wish I could ease your pain.” She sighed again.

“May the Dark Lord bless you, my dear,” Walburga said. “Come to think of it, now that He-who-must-not-be-named is gone, I am afraid no one can save me from my fate…” By the sound of it the portrait was now sobbing heavily.

Harry could hardly restrain his anger, he wanted to rush forward and stun the old bat.

Josh seemed to anticipate Harry’s impulse of rage. He shook his head and whispered, “Stay put, Harry.” With his free hand he grasped Harry’s wand-arm and held him back. Harry was startled by the sudden touch and froze. Being so close to Josh was… irritating. But not in an unpleasant way.

“Aunt Walburga, perhaps you might be more comfortable…” Narcissa Malfoy seemed to hesitate, “…but no, what a stupid idea of mine.”

“What is it, Cissy?” Walburga Black had obviously taken the bait. “What do you have in mind, pray tell me?”

“Well… I thought you might consider... recuperating by visiting the Manor for a few days? We have lots of interesting portraits, fabulous people who would rejoice in seeing you again… and you could return to your home refreshed afterwards.” Narcissa sounded sad, “But I assume that’s just me being selfish, because I would certainly love to have you around.”

“Oh Cissy, my darling, how very kind of you!” Walburga exclaimed. “You have always been my favourite niece, ever so thoughtful you are. Malfoy Manor is a magnificent home indeed. I remember your wedding in that splendid ballroom as if it were just yesterday… ah, _tempus fugit_ …”

Narcissa kept quiet.

“But how could I ever come to Malfoy Manor? I am quite certain there is no portrait of mine in the Manor and I cannot move to just any other painting in another building. You must be aware that we are only able to visit portraits of our own or paintings within the same vicinity.” Walburga was clearly considering the idea.

“Dearest Aunt Walburga, I took the liberty of bringing along one of my favourite paintings from the Manor, maybe you want to have a look?” Narcissa said.

“Well did you ever… that is extremely considerate of you, Cissy my dear… oh, isn’t that Eridanus winking at me? He is still handsome, don’t you think? I have not seen him since your wedding… and the food looks excellent too.”

Walburga seemed to have made up her mind. “Cissy, we must be quick, before that Potter-boy interrupts us… I just need to take a step and then…” Harry heard a swash of heavy robes and then her voice trailed off.

Silence.

“It’s done!” Narcissa Malfoy shouted with some triumph in her voice as she shoved the hexed painting into her bag. “Now that she’s gone you won’t have any trouble taking down that empty frame, Mr Potter, and replace it with whatever you like… maybe a mirror would be nice? This hall has always been far too dark and gloomy.”

“You were brilliant, Ms Malfoy,” Harry said feeling truly dumbfounded by what he had observed and immensely relieved as well. “Thank you so much!”

“Brilliant indeed! Plus helping Mr Potter is certainly worth some credit on your probation scale Ms Malfoy,” Josh said to the woman in his charge.

He finally let go of Harry’s wrist, which still buzzed with the imprint of his touch. Harry rubbed at the skin where Josh’s fingers had been just seconds before and wondered why his pulse had quickened? _Must be the excitement about Mrs Malfoy’s success surely_ , he told himself.

“That went rather well, if I say so myself,” Narcissa said proudly. “I certainly would appreciate some tea now.”

***

The following morning Harry was having breakfast with Ron and Hermione at The Early Bird, a small café in Diagon Alley. He had picked up his pet at the owl shop after another night of post-owl training before meeting his friends. Otto was most pleased to see Hermione again. As soon as the owl spotted her, he abandoned Harry’s shoulder for the armrest of Hermione’s chair and made soft little noises towards her.

“Is this freak of an owl actually cooing? He sounds like a pigeon to me,” Ron grinned at his girlfriend. “Ah, well, that’s obviously what you bring out in a man.”

Hermione just smiled, she seemed to enjoy Ron’s teasing and kept stroking Otto’s neck.

“Well, I’m not cooing and I insist I’m most certainly more of a man than my baby-owl,” Harry said in mock hurt making Ron and Hermione laugh.

They all ordered Full Magical Breakfasts with tea and as they munched their way through servings of cackling cereal and freaking fried eggs Harry gave his friends a detailed report of yesterday’s events.

“… in the end we all had tea together and strangely enough it was quite nice. Mind you, Narcissa Malfoy is still not my favourite person in the world but she really tried to be sociable… seemed to be much more relaxed,” Harry said. “Listening to her and Andromeda refreshing childhood memories makes you wonder… put my years living with the Dursleys rather into perspective. It’s a miracle that Andromeda turned out to be such a nice woman and managed to escape that horrible family.”

“How did Ms Malfoy behave towards Teddy?” Hermione asked nibbling at her toast.

“Well, friendly enough, I guess. She didn’t coo, at least not like Otto does in your presence,” Harry grinned, “but she even brought Teddy a toy – a velveteen unicorn that can be willed to change colour. It’s supposed to help babies learn to control their magical impulses.”

“Wow – that must be a crib-charmer! Those toys are incredibly rare and valuable!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Why am I not even surprised you know about this?” Ron said rolling his eyes, “Though I was raised in a pure-blood family, I have never even heard about let alone played with such a thing.”

“As I said, they are extremely rare,” Hermione insisted rather defensively. “If you had ever read some of the books I recommended…”

“Get off me, Hermione,” Ron said, “If I read everything you recommend, I’ll drop dead, killed by information overload!” He raised his hand to get the waiter’s attention. “Could you please bring us some more toast? Thanks!”

Harry was amused by his friends’ bickering. Some things obviously never change and he was quite glad about that.

“Well, this particular crib-charmer happens to be part of the Malfoys’ family legacy. According to Ms Malfoy little Draco used to be rather fond of it,” Harry said with a wicked grin. “The image of Malfoy playing with his rainbow coloured unicorn – well, that’s something to relish, don’t you think?”

“Brilliant!” Ron roared with laughter. “Can’t wait to see that prick again to wind him up about it! But I have to say I’m rather impressed by his mom, locking up nasty paintings… that woman certainly knows how to deal with shit. I guess being married to Lucius Malfoy gave her some practice.”

“Well of course it’s a huge relief to have that horrible portrait cleared out,” Hermione said, “But that hexed painting of hers? I am quite certain that’s illegal. You know, the regulations on Magical Arts and Crafts are rather strict. I have definitely never heard of any permitted spell to lock people into a painting.”

“But it’s not people being locked up – it’s just their painted images!” Ron protested.

“They are actually called Imagics, these vivid images. Still, the law is very specific. All the legal spells and enchantments are listed and any other magic is strictly forbidden.”

“But Josh had no objections, he even seemed to be impressed! So clearly it must be ok?” Harry said. “Besides since when do you abide by the Ministry’s law so strictly, Hermione? I remember you performing some rather fishy spells yourself during the war.”

Hermione turned slightly pink and said, “Well – all is fair in love and war, right? The war is over now. But if we don’t abide by law in times of peace we are heading towards anarchy.”

“Calm down, ‘Mione,” Ron said patting his girlfriend’s arm. “Don’t you think magic always has a twist of anarchy? Messing with nature’s laws and such? And as long as nobody gets hurt this is just fine with me. Without bending the rules a little bit here and there, no new magic ever would have been invented – and none of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products either.”

“And such a great loss that would have been to the wizarding world.” Hermione said with a disapproving look on her face. “Anyway, Josh Jordan going along with the whole thing proves nothing at all. Everyone knows Aurors are not exactly the most law abiding employees of the Ministry.”

“That’s exactly why Harry and I are going to be superb Aurors, while you, my dear, will have a boring desk job at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Ron grinned. “But don’t you worry, I’ll love you nonetheless.”

“You wish,” Hermione snorted, “I’ll be a superb Healer busy growing back missing body parts of yours and your best mate, parts you will have lost by performing illegal and unsafe spells.”

“As long as you replace my private parts properly, I won’t object,” Ron said with a dirty smirk, which gave Hermione the giggles in a most un-Hermionish way.

“Too much information – stop it, you two!” Harry protested.

“Oh well, the sensitivity of the sexually starving…” Ron sighed.

Harry moaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Talking about sex – is Josh Jordan as hot as he’s supposed to be?” Hermione asked.

“What?” Harry gawped at her, “Who says he’s hot?”

“Well, just about 90% of all the young witches and about 10% of the guys?” she said. “Obviously you don’t read the gossip column of the Daily Prophet, otherwise you would know, that he became famous for being the youngest Auror ever, passing the final examination of Auror training with an Outstanding in every single subject when he had just turned 25.” She sounded a tiny bit envious.

Ron grinned, “I have to admit it’s somewhat disappointing, that my very own girlfriend seems to be part of the fan-club.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m not. I’ve never even met him. Just asking.” Narrowing her eyes sardonically she added, “Come to think of it, it’s always good to have a back-up in case something goes horribly wrong with growing back essential body-parts.”

Ron and Harry both paled a little before Ron said, “Don’t be daft Hermione. Everyone knows Josh is playing for the other team. Well, everybody but Pansy Parkinson. You remember that day she saw a picture of Josh in the Prophet and declared, Josh to be the only Hufflepuff, she would consider dating, if he asked her out? That girl is beyond ignorant.”

Hermione chuckled, “Not the brightest brain of Slytherin house exactly.”

Harry stared at his friends, “Are you saying what I think you are? Josh is… gay?”

“Of course he is! Don’t you know he was Charlie’s first lover? The reason my brother finally came out to mum and dad? Come to think of it, Josh might have converted Charlie.”

“Don’t be silly Ron, there is no such thing as conversion, when it comes to sexual orientation.” Hermione said.

“Yeah, you’re probably right… but if there ever was a reason to convert, it would be Josh, he’s the coolest. When Charlie brought him to the Burrow, even I was crushing on him.”

Hermione chuckled, “You had a crush on Josh Jordan?”

Ron grinned back, “Yup, and proud of it! I mean, I was only seven, or eight maybe? Totally innocent. Ginny and I were both admiring the guy and he was really nice with us kids.”

“Yeah, I can see that, Josh being great with kids,” Harry said. “He adores Teddy and sure knows how to handle a baby, cuddling and stuff. But… how come you guys seem to know so much about him? I didn’t even know that he’s Lee Jordan’s cousin until he told me!”

“Maybe because you were busy with boring stuff like fighting – to quote our favourite poltergeist – ‘ _Voldy the mouldy’_?” Ron said. “Well, as my lovely girlfriend says, now’s the time to leave all that behind and start acting like your average stupid young bloke – have fun, get pissed and get laid.”

“Ron Weasley, I never said anything like that! And I assure you, being drunk will not increase your chances of having sex – at least not with me.” Hermione said.

Harry pushed his still half-full plate away. “You are awful, both of you. Last call: stop talking about sex!”

Ron grinned rising his fork, “Not a chance, mate. As my very active sex-life happens to increase my appetite – can I finish your breakfast?”


	4. Sandalwood Smells

While August turned into September the weather was still remarkably fine and Harry was enjoying his prolonged summer-holiday. Otto was making good progress to become a reliable post-owl and finally able to find his way to school by his own. The owl was very proud to take on first jobs and especially fond of making deliveries to the Weasley’s home where Molly or – to the bird’s even greater delight – Hermione would treat him to fancy snacks such as flour worms or sweet beetles. Hermione had succeeded convincing her parents she was still trustworthy and was therefore able to stay at her boyfriend’s home more frequently.

Harry had finally brought himself to talk to Ginny about their relationship or whatever was left of it. When he had asked her, how she felt about them being just friends, she first stared at him – until to his immense relief, she started to laugh. No, she assured him, she had no desire to hook up again. Her final verdict stung a little but Harry was still relieved.

“Harry,” she had said, “you are a good person, I would trust you with my life – come to think of it, I already did – and you’re really handsome in your ruffled sort of way, but… I think I rather prefer dating someone, who does not feel like yet another brother to me. I’m just glad you feel the same.”

He could live with that. Once again, following Hermione’s advice had proved to be the sensible thing to do, as the awkwardness was gone after their conversation and Ginny seemed to enjoy hanging out at No 12 even more than before.

When the ground floor rooms were finally tidy enough for his taste, Harry decided to renovate and refurbish his chosen bedroom. He took the heavy old hangings of Slytherin green silk down and painted the walls in a calming shade of greenish blue instead, a colour by the odd name ‘Duck Egg’ which still looked rather nice. The old wardrobe and the fitted shelves were stripped from dark paint coat and now shone in a honey shade of natural ash. Finally he decided to treat himself to a new bed and spent an absurd amount of money on a luxurious king-size with a mattress made of so many layers that he felt a little bit like ‘The Princess and the Pea’. Or rather the prince.

But obviously the mattress was worth every Galleon, as he could not remember a time in his life, when he had rested as comfortably or as peacefully. Each morning he would be surprised that he had slept right through another night without being disturbed by ghastly nightmares like so many nights before. Not that he was without dreams at all. He dreamt some pretty strange stuff recently, often starring Otto in a major role. And some of his dreams were… well, quite embarrassing. About chocolate brown eyes, smooth dark skin, sandalwood smells and such.

“Oh no, this is so inconvenient…” Harry groaned awaking one Friday morning with a disturbingly clear memory of yet another Josh-Jordan-themed dream – and a sizeable erection. Obviously he was having a crush on Josh. And not quite as innocent as the crush little Ron used to have years ago.

This did not come totally unexpectedly. Harry was fully aware of having unresolved issues about… well, his sexual orientation. Compared to the other challenges of his teenage years – like killing Voldemort and saving the wizarding world – being confused about his sexual preferences had seemed rather irrelevant. Yes, his first crush on Cho might have been mingled with feelings he had harboured for her boyfriend Cedric. Yes, he had always loved to look at pictures of professional Quidditch players, preferably with fewer clothes on display than during a game. And yes, being with Ginny had felt nice, but… not nearly half as exciting as some of his dreams lately.

Oh, well. It was time to face the issue like a true Gryffindor: He was gay. At least that seemed to be very likely. Could he be totally sure of it as long as he had never actually been with a bloke? Maybe reality did not live up to his dreams? Maybe it would not be so very different from being with Ginny after all? Maybe he was bisexual? Or pansexual? And the final question – why had yet another issue in his life to be more difficult for him than for the average guy? Harry sighed.

At least he knew for sure Josh was single, as he had mentioned that fact at one point, chatting away while having tea with Andromeda and Ms Malfoy at Harry’s place. It had seemed a bit out of context at that moment – maybe that was a good sign? Only one way to find out, Harry thought and sighed. He needed to do something about his crush on Josh Jordan. He could behave like a true Gryffindor and simply ask Josh out for a date – the thought alone made his stomach drop. Or he could act out his Slytherin tendencies by making secret enquires on Josh’s whereabouts to arrange a ‘coincidental’ meeting. What would a Ravenclaw do? Collect as much information as possible about the man of his dreams to make sure, he was worth it before getting close? Well, he was not patient enough for that approach. And a Hufflepuff like Josh himself? Get down on one knee, declare never ending love and propose?

Harry groaned and gave up. Most likely he would do what he always did when totally clueless – wait for the right moment and act on an impulse. That strategy had served him quite well so far, considering he was still alive. What he needed right now was a really long hot shower… with some sandalwood shower gel.

***

The rest of the morning Harry spent browsing through the library of No 12 collected by the Black family over centuries. All the shelves were full so fortunately Mundungus Fletcher had stayed clear of the library and not nicked any book. As was to be expected some of the volumes dealt with dark magic, which could still be quite useful for his intended career of becoming an Auror.

He had to ask Hermione’s opinion on the collection of course. Maybe she had already been through some of the books last autumn, when they were staying at No 12 for a few weeks? Harry could not even remember whether they had been in this room at that time? Probably not, as the door to the library was right beside the now empty spot, where Walburga Black’s portrait used to be. As long as it had been on display, there would have been no chance of getting into the library without her wailing like a fire engine.

 _If Hermione has never seen my library before, she’s in for a pleasant surprise - she’ll enjoy this immensely,_ Harry grinned to himself while pulling out a battered volume. The odd title ‘C.O.M.A.’ was printed in silver letters on its spine. Harry opened the book – which responded by vomiting violently at him.

“Fuck’s sake!” Harry shouted. Looks like he needed to take another shower before apparating to Tonk’s cottage for his usual Friday lunch followed by baby-sitter duties.

***

When Harry was walking towards the cottage from the nearest apparition point half an hour later his hair was wet and he could still smell the sick on himself. Hopefully this was just his nose playing tricks on him. At least Otto had not shown any signs of disgust and owls were supposed to be of delicate sense of smell. The owl had arrived at No 12 late in the morning after an intensive night of long distance training. His pet had been fast asleep when Harry left, so Teddy would have to do without his new-found friend this Friday.

He opened the door with a knock, gave his usual call, “Hello, it’s me, Harry!” and headed straight for the kitchen. To his utter amazement the only person present was Josh Jordan. The subject of his latest erotic fantasies was wearing an apron und busy preparing lunch.

“Hi Harry,” Josh said keeping his focus on a sizzling pan, which was all for the better as Harry had flushed violently.

“Hi Josh,” he croaked. “What are you doing here?”

“Andromeda asked me to watch Teddy a bit until you’d come – he’s fast asleep by the way. She had an urgent call from the Department of Childcare. Obviously Teddy is considered to be a child with ‘special needs’,” Josh snorted. “I’d rather call it special abilities! But they asked Andromeda to prove she’s fit to raise him – can you believe that? Absolutely ridiculous! Being Tonk’s mum she knows more about Metamorphmagics than all of those stupid legal custodians put together.”

“Oh that’s awful!” Harry was shocked. “What can I do to help her?”

“I hope your help won’t be necessary. I’ve already alerted Kingsley and as Head of A.D. his credit should do the trick.” Josh shook his head. “Occasionally I’m really mad at the Ministry’s administration, some of my colleagues are just so… lackadaisical. Just following orders, no practical sense.” He sighed.

“Yeah, I guess so… but certainly the A.D. must be different?” Harry said. “Having said that – don’t you have to be at work? I mean… Andromeda could have asked me to come earlier, I was free all morning.”

“She doesn’t want to exploit you, I guess. She’s awfully grateful you take care of the little one every Friday afternoon,” Josh said finally turning around looking a bit worried. “You don’t mind me being here, I hope?”

“Of course not!” Harry said. “That’s not what I meant, it’s great to see you again, seriously!” They smiled at each other for just a second before Josh turned his attention back to the stove and Harry had the feeling his knees were not quite as reliable as usual.

“What are you cooking?” Harry said trying very hard to control his breathing and to behave normally. “Smells delicious.”

“I was hoping you’d be hungry. It’s just stir fried veggies with creole spices, hope you won’t mind, it’s a bit hot? And I will fry some bacon to go with it, if you like? I’m a vegetarian, but I don’t mind cooking meat for others.”

“No, vegetarian is just fine,” Harry said, “but you really shouldn’t have troubled yourself.”

“No bother at all. Andromeda said you usually have lunch together before she darts off. Plus I want to have lunch myself before I get back to work in about half an hour or so – then Teddy is all yours.”

“Why is he sleeping already? Usually he nods off in the early afternoon. He’s not sick I hope?” Harry asked.

“Nah, no worries. He’s teething and Andromeda said he didn’t get much sleep last night – I suppose, neither did she. He fell asleep an hour ago, so I took the chance to throw some cooked lunch together. I’m bored of sandwiches lately.”

“Can I help?” Harry asked feeling a bit useless.

“No, I’m fine, done in a minute.” Josh replied. “Just grab a chair.”

The table was set for two and some dishes were already waiting there when Harry sat down.

Josh wove his wand to make the frying pan glide to the table as well and took the chair across from Harry. He pointed to the other dishes and explained, “This is cornbread and that’s red salsa, a sauce to go with it. It’s rather hot, so you might try with care. And some salad of course.”

Harry filled his plate. The food smelled delicious but he was not sure how much his stomach could take in the presence of Josh. His insides squirmed whenever he looked at the handsome guy. Josh’s eyes seemed like liquid chocolate, he had cheekbones to die for and Harry was afraid, if he kept his eyes on Josh’s full lips for too long, he would grab across the table and kiss him…

To avoid that, he shoved some food into his own mouth. “Wow, that’s fantastic,” he said after the first forkful.

“Glad you like it,” Josh grinned and then asked, “What happened to your hair? It’s not raining outside, is it?”

“No, just some unpleasant incident with a vomiting book from the Black library – sorry, no table manners,” Harry mumbled.

Josh laughed, “Oh, I’m used to far worse, I assure you! Sharing meals with Aurors takes a good stomach, as we talk about our cases while eating. But that book of yours sounds like a nasty piece of parchment indeed.”

“It looked innocent enough,” Harry said feeling foolish.

“Well, if you intend to become an Auror, you’ll get used to the idea that appearances can be misleading,” Josh smiled.

“You know about that? Me wanting to be an Auror?” Harry was astounded. “I’m fully aware it’s a tough job and I’ll probably fail the aptitude test or the training, but I still want to try,” he added somewhat defensively.

Josh stared at him. “Harry, you cannot seriously doubt getting into Auror training? You are more than qualified for that job! The A.D. will be most pleased to employ the wizard who finished off Voldemort!”

Harry ruffled his still damp hair. “Yeah that’s part of the problem… everyone and his brother believes, I have some secret power. Well I don’t. I had lots of support and lots of luck fighting Voldemort. I’m certainly no superhero and not the brightest student either, you know. Just one ‘Outstanding’ at my O.W.L. Mostly I’m mediocre.”

“Honestly, Harry, you are far too modest for your own good,” Josh said shaking his head in disbelief, “but that makes you such a nice guy, I guess.” He gave Harry another one of his bright smiles and Harry was lost. Oh Merlin, how he was lost.

Obviously Josh’s last remark had been the signal for Harry’s inner Gryffindor to take over, because suddenly he heard his own voice saying, “Would you have a drink with me some evening?”

They both stopped eating and just stared at each other. Josh looked mostly surprised and maybe, Harry hoped, a little bit pleased – but kept quiet.

Harry held his breath and just when he seriously considered taking his own life with the fork in his hand, he was saved by a crying noise from the snug.

“Oh that’s Teddy waking up, I guess,” he murmured and hurried from the room. “I’ll take care of him, you finish your lunch.”

Harry stepped to the crib and tried to calm his godchild, “Hi there, Teddy bro, your uncle Harry’s here with you, don’t you worry.” The baby blinked at him and the heavy crying ebbed away as soon as Harry took him out of his crib. Teddy cuddled at Harry’s chest but kept whining softly.

“Oh little one, are your teeth giving you a hard time? Well that’ll pass, I promise.” Harry whispered into Teddies soft tuft of hair, presently shining in lime green. “Later on you will have bruised knees and sprained ankles and one day someone will even give you a heart-ache – but it will all pass…”

Harry walked around the small room rocking Teddy in his arms. Suddenly his eyes fell on a well-known piece of china – on a small table in front of the window stood the Sorores Cup. The very same cup he had given to Ms Malfoy, but with a significant alteration: Bellatrix was gone from the picture. ‘ _Ms Malfoy must have managed to trick Bellatrix into leaving the cup_ ,’ Harry thought. Little Andromeda and little Narcissa seemed to be quite content without their mean elder sister.

Teddy finally calmed down and his hair turned lavender. Harry walked back into the kitchen with the baby in his arms. Meanwhile Josh had finished eating and offered to hold Teddy, so Harry could continue his lunch. But Teddy started to sob again as soon as Harry tried to hand him over.

“No, it’s fine,” Harry mumbled, “I can eat later. Maybe I’ll heat up your fry, when Andromeda comes home.”

“Yeah, you could do that, there’s enough left for two more servings. I’m afraid I’ve gotta go now,” Josh said sounding reluctant. “Listen Harry, your question, about having a drink together… it’s complicated… I’d like to explain but I’m afraid I have to hurry.” He seemed to hesitate before finally he said, “I’ll owl you, promise.”

Then he was gone.

The rest of the afternoon Harry was glad to be distracted by Teddy who was apparently very tired but unable to fall asleep again. Harry kept walking up and down the kitchen with the baby in his arms, talking in a soft voice because that seemed to soothe him. He was fully aware that most of the stuff he whispered was directed at himself as much as at Teddy. How everything would be alright in the end and what fun they would have again, as soon as this pain was gone.

Andromeda came home around four smiling brightly. The issue was settled, she was granted the right to raise Teddy by herself and without interference of any legal guardian.

“It’s such a relief,” she said with a sigh, “Kingsley Shacklebolt’s testimony did it in the end. Josh insisted on asking him and I’m ever so glad I finally agreed. He’s such a nice guy, Josh, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Harry said biting his lips, “and a good cook as well – shall I reheat his fry for you?”

***

Luckily Harry didn’t have much time to brood over what had happened, because he spent Saturday at the Burrow and there were enough people around to distract him perfectly. Molly was especially emotional as Bill and Fleur had just announced they were expecting a baby. So everyone was in a rather festive mood for a change. Molly fussed about Fleur, who rolled her eyes but was pleased nonetheless and Arthur opened a bottle of fire-whisky at lunchtime declaring, that it was already past five – in Tibet.

Hermione was there as well and in the afternoon Ron and Hermione teamed against Ginny and Harry for a game of double Quidditch, just like many holidays before. When George dropped by and took Hermione’s position, the pace of the game increased. Soon enough Harry was out of breath, heart pounding and blood ranging in his ears. He was alive, having fun with his friends, whom he loved. And that was all that mattered.

When he apparated back to No 12 late in the evening, he was quite content. After all, nothing bad had happened, he had only asked another guy for a date. Worst case, Josh wasn’t interested and Harry had made a bit of a fool of himself. Well, that wasn’t a first and would certainly not be the last time, no need to worry about it. Josh was a decent guy, he was sure of that. If he declined, he would just say so and certainly not gossip about Harry asking him out.

But if he said yes… and they became more than just friends… the Prophet would have a field day. Josh Jordan dating Harry Potter, two young heroes already well known and closely watched by the public – that was first class gossip material. Harry would need to act carefully, if he wanted to explore his sexuality without having the whole wizarding world watching every move of his. And caution was certainly not his strongest asset.

He was still in the kitchen preparing a night-cup of tea, when Otto, who stayed at home for the weekend after his long-distance training, hooted excitedly. Harry’s stomach dropped as he saw not only one, but two other owls at his window. One brown barn-owl and one familiar looking snow-owl with a snarling glare. At least Otto was obviously happy to see his uncle – or whoever that owl was to him… _Maybe that’s even his dad?_ Harry wondered.

Harry fetched the letter from the barn-owl first and his heart leapt at the sight of the envelope which stated ‘ _To Mr Harry Potter from J.J.’_

Just like he had assumed the other envelope was imprinted with the Malfoys’ coat of arms. What did Ms Malfoy want from him this time, he wondered? Well, her letter would have to wait.

Josh’s letter was short and reading it felt like riding a roller coaster:

> _Dear Harry,_
> 
> _I want to apologise for my cautious response to your suggestion of having a drink together. I was just really surprised, very pleased, but surprised._ (UP went the roller coaster!) _I’m afraid this is not a good idea._ (DOWN!) _I think you are a really nice guy and very handsome as well_ (UP AGAIN!) _but I am more than ten years your senior_ (WHO CARES!) _and – what is more – will be one of your teachers soon._ (WHAT THE FUCK?!?!)
> 
> _Officially Kingsley Shacklebolt will be teaching D.A.D.A. at Hogwarts this year, as you might have heard already. Having many other obligations, he delegated me to step in. So Kingsley might drop by occasionally but most of the time yours truly will stand in front of the class and no doubt make a fool of himself. I’m sure you get my point._
> 
> _Harry, I sincerely believe there is no need for both of us to feel awkward about the whole thing. We’ll meet soon at Hogwarts and I am quite sure, you will be one of my favourite students (not that I intend to give favours). Enjoy the rest of your holiday!_
> 
> _Yours truly, Josh_

Harry moaned and buried his head in his arms. And he honestly had believed Severus Snape to be the all-time low of his D.A.D.A. teachers! Now he had to live with the fact, that his last and final D.A.D.A. teacher would be a guy he had already shagged in his dreams! How was he ever going to get through that year without dying of embarrassment? How was he supposed to concentrate during lessons and pass Defence Against the Dark Arts at N.E.W.T.-level with good enough grades to get into Auror training?

Just for distraction he ripped the Malfoy envelope open: Yes, Narcissa Malfoy had written again. She invited him once more to the Manor because she wanted ‘ _to discuss some personal and delicate matter’_ with him asking for his support. Whatever. He was in dire need of distraction, so he scribbled his reply without thinking twice. He would see her tomorrow for another Sunday high tea at the pavilion.


	5. Mrs Malfoy Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'A chapter a day keeps the boredom away!'

Harry walked towards the Manor the following afternoon wondering what on earth Narcissa Malfoy wanted to discuss with him this time. Otto was overexcited. Sitting on Harry’s shoulder he fluttered nervously and nibbled at Harrys hair, obviously strung high by anticipation to see his family again.

“Ok, you impatient prat, I’ll take you to the owlery first,” Harry muttered with a grin. As he was a little early anyway and Narcissa Malfoy was not yet to be seen near the porch, he passed the front door of the Manor and walked around the building instead. At the backside of the house, alongside a very stylish conservatory, the door of the aviary stood ajar. Otto left Harry’s shoulder immediately to sail right through it. Harry was a bit nervous. How would the other owls take to the lost son? Most of them had seemed rather unfriendly to Harry, that’s why he had picked Otto in the first place, because he was so different from the others, crazy in a charming sorts of way.

Harry need not have worried. The other young owls were obviously rather pleased to have their clown back. There was a lot of hooting and fluttering, but all in a distinctly friendly way, while the adult owls were just watching the spectacle from above. Harry was relieved.

“Have fun, Otto! I’ll fetch you when it’s time to go home, so be good, ok?” Harry shouted as he turned and walked back to the front of the Manor, where he was supposed to wait for his hostess.

He had just turned around the corner of the building, when an unexpected sight stopped him in his track. Right in front of the main entrance, between the mighty pillars stood unmistakably Draco Malfoy himself, back turned toward Harry and watching the path from the gate to the house.

 _He must have lost weight_ , Harry could not help thinking, as Draco looked skinnier than ever. His blonde hair shimmered like silver in the afternoon sun and Harry had to admit, his Nemesis had an elegant posture. He was most certainly handsome, standing there like a male model posing for pictures.

As if the sudden sight of his least favourite fellow student was not enough to startle Harry, something even more surprising happened: another boy came darting out of the house and flung himself around Draco, who – to Harry’s uttermost shock – returned the hug. Draco Malfoy embracing any other human being with feeling, let alone another teenage boy, was a sight Harry most certainly had never expected to lay eyes on.

When they finally broke apart, Harry cleared his voice. Both of them turned around and stared at Harry. Although their expression was very different – Draco blushed violently and looked upset, while the other grinned widely – their features were very much alike, nearly same height, lean frame and white blonde fringe falling into the forehead. They were even dressed alike in black trousers and white shirts. Harry wondered for a second, if maybe Draco had a secret twin brother?

“Well, finally I get to meet you!” shouted the other teenager – and within an instant Harry realized his mistake. This was not a boy, but a girl. Admittedly a very tom-boyish girl. As Harry stepped closer, the differences became more obvious. She was not quite as tall as Draco, had sparkling blue eyes instead of Draco’s grey ones, a softer jaw line, slightly fuller lips and cheeks.

“I’m Cass Malfoy, Draco’s cousin from Edinburgh,” she said holding out her hand.

“I’m Harry… Harry Potter,” he murmured, shaking hands.

Cass burst out laughing. “I know very well, who you are,” she said. “Living in Edinburgh did not prevent me from knowing all about famous Harry Potter.” She glanced sideways at Draco, “I’ve heard lots about you.”

Harry had no idea what to say to that and ruffled through his hair in embarrassment. He was saved from responding by Narcissa Malfoy’s sudden appearance.

“Good afternoon, Mr Potter,” she said, “I see you have already made the acquaintance of my niece Cassiopeia?”

Cass obviously was not very fond of her given name in full length as she rolled her eyes at Harry.

“She is staying with us for the last few days before all of you are leaving for Hogwarts.” Ms Malfoy looked around and seemed to be a little bit disappointed, “I see you did not bring along your owl, Mr Potter? I had rather hoped to see that bird again.”

“Otto was so impatient to visit his family, I had to drop him off at the aviary first thing,” Harry explained.

“So that’s your excuse for snooping around,” Draco snorted with disbelief.

Before Harry even had a chance to reply, Narcissa Malfoy shot her son a stern look and said, “Draco, how dare you insult a guest of mine like that! I have certainly not raised you to employ such bad manners!”

Harry could not help grinning, “Don’t worry, Ms Malfoy, I’m used to far worse.” He hesitated for a second before he continued, “To be fair, we pretty much insult each other all the time.”

“Be assured I have no illusions about the communication skills taught at Hogwarts, Mr Potter,” Narcissa Malfoy still seemed outraged, “I remember well enough how Slytherins and Griffindors treat each other – even the teachers. Well this is my house and I will tolerate no such nonsense here.” She turned to her son and said, “Draco, you know very well, what I expect to hear from you.”

Draco squirmed under her gaze. “For Merlin’s sake, Mother…” he pleaded but Narcissa was unmoved.

“Oh well, if you insist…” Draco drew a sharp breath and for a split second he looked right into Harry’s eyes before he lowered his gaze to Harry’s chest. ”I apologize for my manners. And I thoroughly thank you for your testimony at the trial, Potter.”

Harry felt stunned. Draco Malfoy had just apologized and thanked him! He was completely lost for words, his brain obviously close to a melt-down as the only thought, that came to his mind was something like ‘ _Draco has beautiful eyes’_. Not useful. Not useful at all.

“Well, yeah…” he said.

Narcissa Malfoy stared at Harry as displeased as she had looked at her son seconds before.

Cass chuckled, “I think you will have to do better than that, Harry, if you want to stay in Aunt Cissy’s good book.”

Harry did not even want to contemplate, why he was supposed to be listed in Narcissa Malfoy’s bloody good book – he just cleared his voice and said, “Apology accepted, Malfoy… ah, Draco. And no need to get soppy about my testimony, I just told the truth and that’s that.” He shot Narcissa Malfoy a rebellious look and crossed his arms.

She sighed. “Well, I suppose that is about as good as both of you can do… for now. Draco, why don’t you take Cassiopeia for a walk? Meanwhile Mr Potter and I will have a look at the owls?” She turned towards Harry, “Later on we will meet at the pavilion and have tea?”

“Great,” Harry mumbled and was somewhat relieved to hear Draco snort.

“Oh, that’ll be great fun, watching you two trying to be polite to each other,” Cass seemed to enjoy their mutual discomfort immensely and Harry could not help but feeling a bit of a dumb-ass himself.

“C’mon Dray, let’s go – clearly we are not wanted!” Cass laughed and darted off into the grounds. Draco shrugged, stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and followed his cousin in a more subdued pace, not without glaring at Harry one last time before he turned around and was gone.

Narcissa Malfoy turned towards Harry and searched his face. She clearly wanted to talk to him in private, but did not know how to begin.

“Shall we walk to the aviary?” Harry said mainly to break the silence.

“Certainly, Mr Potter,” Ms Malfoy said. She put her hand lightly on Harry’s forearm as if he was meant to escort her to an invisible dancefloor. Harry hesitated for a second before he offered his arm properly and off they walked together. He found the whole situation ridiculous, but decided to go along with Ms Malfoys strange formal behaviour anyway.

Harry was amused. If he wasn’t totally mistaken, Malfoy’s mum seemed to be quite fond of him – which wouldn’t please that twat one bit.

“I hope your new owl is well behaved, Mr Potter?” her skill for small-talk seemed to kick in, “Otto, I believe, you call him? Do you find him useful?”

“Otto’s just lovely, Mrs Malfoy,” Harry said, “he’s still at owl school of course but his teachers are very happy about the progress he’s making.”

Harry shared about Otto’s training, but had the distinct impression Narcissa Malfoy did not hear a single word he was saying. They stepped into the aviary and Harry was glad to see, that his owl was still well received by the other birds and seemed to enjoy the visit immensely.

“I must thank you again for Otto, I’m really fond of him,” he said.

“Please don’t mention it,” Ms Malfoy replied then fell silent again. Eventually she turned around, her hand still on his forearm and led him along a gravel walk. Harry realised, they were not taking the direct route to the tea house.

 _Whatever she wants to talk about, it must be really hard for her to bring it up. And why does she want to discuss it with me of all people in the first place?_ Harry thought.

He made a wild guess and said, “How come I’ve never seen Cass at Hogwarts? She can’t be a Squib as she’s joining this year?”

Narcissa Malfoy stopped abruptly and looked at his face with curiosity. “You are very observant indeed, Mr Potter,” she drew a deep breath and said, “This is exactly what I want to talk about. The story of Cassiopeia’s childhood is a very unpleasant one and I feel I have failed her – she is my god-child, you see. But I want to do better now.”

They started to walk again and Narcissa Malfoy began with her story, “Cassiopeia is the only child of Lucius’ younger brother Taurus. She was born just one week after Draco. At that time Taurus and his wife were staying with us, the Manor’s nursemaid took care of both children and as neither of them had siblings, naturally they became very close.” She sighed, “Cassiopeia was a child full of energy and strong-willed as well. When she was just a toddler, she started to refuse what was expected of her. She was already… the way she is today.” Ms Malfoy stopped again and gave Harry a significant look.

Harry was confused. Whatever did she mean? There seemed to be nothing wrong with Cass, she looked healthy and – if Harry wasn’t completely mistaken – she was easy-going and friendly.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand? Cass seems to be very nice,” he replied, “I think she looks a lot like your son.”

“I am rather surprised but very glad to hear it, that you find Draco looks nice,” Narcissa Malfoy replied with a strange little smile.

Harry was bewildered – that was certainly not what he had meant! He was just about to protest vehemently, when he realised Narcissa Malfoy was maybe… teasing him? Well that was a first. He grinned back at her. “As long as you don’t tell him.”

“If you insist… surely he would be delighted!” She gave a little laugh before she continued, “Cassiopeia is very nice indeed, but she is certainly not as feminine as a young witch from a traditional pure-blood family is expected to be. She never was. When Nanny put a dress on her, within minutes she transfigured her outfit to pants. Her hair would never ever grow long enough to be braided. She was more daring and more adventurous than Draco. None of this behaviour was appreciated by her parents – or by myself, I have to admit. When the children were seven years old we had Draco’s Filius Stick painted and – as Cassiopeia had no sisters – a Filia Cup for her. We explained the purpose and tradition of these items to both of them and Cassiopeia declared with the greatest self-assurance, that she intended to marry a girl, not a boy.”

Harry could relate a lot to Cass’ story. He recalled all too well Aunt Petunias fury whenever his hair grew back the way it was meant to look and how unable he was to be the ordinary Muggle boy his relatives wanted him to be. Furthermore his new-found awareness about his sexual orientation was yet another thing he seemed to share with Cass. They had so much in common – he really was looking forward to get to know her.

Narcissa Malfoy went on, “That was the last straw. Her parents were furious. You have to understand that traditional pure-blood families have their own way of dealing with homoerotic preferences. Wizards may enter same-sex relationships as long as they also get married and reproduce. But intimate relationships between witches are never ever tolerated.”

Harry was stunned. He shook his head in disbelief. Not only was Narcissa Malfoy talking to him about a topic he had never expected in his wildest dreams, but the sheer craziness of pure-blood traditions was unbelievable.

“I know how absurd this must sound to you. And I can hardly understand myself why, at one time in my life, that seemed to be reasonable. But so it was. Cassiopeia’s parents spoke to her in no uncertain terms about the consequences of such behaviour: she would be disowned and as good as dead to them. They argued, they threatened, they… even tried to hex her. I was shocked and begged my niece to give in for now, to confirm or to just pretend – Cassy refused firm and clear. I felt torn apart, between loyalty for my husband’s family and compassion for the child who – in my eyes – had done nothing wrong. I was desperate and pleaded with her, cried for her. She certainly must have hurt, but I cannot remember seeing her crying even once. I am ashamed to say, Draco was the only one of us standing up for Cassy. No wonder the children became even closer during that time.” 

Harry could feel her fingers digging into his forearm while talking. He was deeply disturbed by Cass’ story. And although he was repelled by Narcissa Malfoy’s part in it, he had to give her credit for her honesty and the obvious remorse she was showing.

“Some months of ghastly fights later her parents left Cassiopeia with us, they moved abroad for years. Draco was very happy that they were gone and so was I. Lucius was mostly glad, that the constant fighting had stopped, but he had always blamed his niece for it and now ignored her completely. I told myself Cass just needed some time and pretended the whole issue would simply disappear. Well, it did not.”

They came to a halt in front of a wide pond. Branches of a weeping willow were touching the surface and two swans were gliding on the water. It was a sight of superb beauty and peace. Narcissa Malfoy sighed heavily before she continued her story and they strolled on.

“When the children turned eleven years old, as was to be expected the owls from Hogwarts arrived. Both of them were excited and eager to go. But that very summer Taurus returned to the Manor – alone. Cassiopeia’s mother had just died. Against Healer’s advice she had tried once more to have another child and the final miscarriage killed her. Taurus was not mellowed by his wife’s death, quite the contrary, he was even more furious with his only daughter. He declared firmly, she would be allowed to attend Hogwarts but under one condition: She must fully confirm to the role of a pure-blood witch. Cass refused and was therefore thrown out by her father with Lucius’ full support. Her mother’s aunt Philomella gave her a new home, but her father kept parental custody and forbade her to go to Hogwarts or any other school for witchcraft and wizardry. She had to go to a Muggle school instead.”

“But that’s impossible!” Harry shouted unable to hold back any longer. “My relatives didn’t want me to go to Hogwarts either, but Dumbledore simply overruled them! He sent owl after owl and finally Hagrid came to fetch me!”

“I know. We all knew about it. Dumbledore desperately wanted to educate you at Hogwarts – he expected the Dark- ,” she cleared her voice, “he expected Voldemort’s return and was fully aware of your destiny. Cass was not as important to him of course,” Narcissa said dryly.

“To give Dumbledore some credit, he tried to reason with Taurus and Lucius… but when they kept firm, he gave in. Lucius was already a school governor at that time, so he had some standing. And Taurus… being a wizard and Cassiopeia’s biological father, my brother-in-law had more authority in the matter than your Muggle aunt and uncle of course.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief. “But this is so unfair! I feel really bad about her fate – Dumbledore treating her case and mine so very differently…”

“That is exactly how Draco felt. He resented Dumbledore for giving up on Cassiopeia and was never willing to fully trust him.” Narcissa Malfoy’s voice was full of pain. “In the end they both paid the price for it, Dumbledore and Draco alike.” She fell silent.

 _Draco not only resented Dumbledore,_ Harry thought to himself, _he has also resented me since our very first meeting…_ _and I cannot even blame him… all the effort Dumbledore made for my sake, whereas Cass was refused her birth right of a magical education._

Suddenly so many things from the past made sense – Draco’s absurd and megalomaniac attempts of killing Dumbledore, his constant hostility towards Harry –

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Harry suddenly asked with feeling, “It is a horrible story and I feel terrible about it, but none of this is my fault! I knew nothing about it! Up until today I didn’t even know Cass exists!”

“Of course it is not your fault, Mr Potter!” Ms Malfoy seemed to be bewildered by his outburst. “There is absolutely no need to defend yourself, I am not accusing you. I told you this very personal story because I hope – I beg you, that you will support Cassiopeia at Hogwarts. That is all.”

“Ah – yes. Sorry.” Harry felt like an idiot. “Of course I will support her, I’ll be glad to get to know her and make sure nobody gives her sh–... sorry, nobody gives her a hard time at school.” Then he asked, “Why is she suddenly allowed to join anyway? Don’t get me wrong, I am really happy for her, but what does her father say about it?“

“As Cassiopeia is eighteen years old, her father would no longer be entitled to make decisions for her, even if he were still around. But he was one of the Death Eaters who fled the country as soon as the war was over to avoid trial. I think… I hope, he will never return!” she said with feeling. “Cassy could have already gone to Hogwarts last year as soon as she came of age. But with all what was going on at the school last term, even Minerva McGonagall – a close friend of Philomella’s – advised her against it. So Cassy decided to graduate first at Muggle school and to wait one more year.”

“But – will she be able to follow classes of our year? Surely she can’t be supposed to start with the first years!” Harry said.

“Cassiopeia will join the seventh-year students. She was granted special permission to sit for her O.W.L. at the Ministry of Magic just last week and as she passed with rather good grades, she should have no trouble with sixth-year’s lessons. You have to know, Mr Potter,” she went on, ”Cassy is rather talented and very ambitious. She took her magical education into her own hands. While going to Muggle school, she worked through all of the textbooks from Hogwarts year after year – at least Dumbledore made sure she got every item from the reading list. And she also got help with her studies: To Lucius’ annoyance Draco insisted in spending part of every holiday in Edinburgh, to pass on what he himself had just been taught. Also Philomella, who is a retired Healer, and sometimes even Professor McGonagall tutored her. Philomella became like a parent to Cassiopeia…” Narcissa Malfoy said with great compassion, “whereas I did very little to help her – up until now. And I regret it very much.”

Meanwhile they had strolled along most of the paths the grounds offered and Harry had lost any sense of direction, when to his surprise the old play house was within sight again. Finally Ms Malfoy seemed to take aim at the little building.

“Draco will not be able to do much for her at school, I am afraid,” Ms Malfoy said with concern, “If I am not completely mistaken, Cass won’t be sorted to be a Slytherin – in fact, I would not be surprised at all, if she were meant to join your house, Mr Potter. She is a very brave young woman. That is why I wanted to talk to you. I want her to have an ally at Gryffindor house, in case she is the first Malfoy to wear red ties. Headmistress McGonagall will certainly do what she can to protect her, but no teacher has ever been able to control the dynamics between houses or within houses – neither the friendships nor the rivalry. I know students can be very cruel and I want Cassy to enjoy those two years of Hogwarts that lie ahead of her.”

“Of course I’ll support her,” Harry meant what he said, “and not just because you asked me! That’s the least I can do – she more than deserves this.”

“And I shall be extremely grateful for your support,” Ms Malfoy replied. “Allow me to mention one last thing, Mr Potter. I have shared my niece’s story with her full consent, I would never have told you otherwise. But please be aware, this story was meant for your ears only. Cassy certainly does not want other students to know.”

“Don’t worry about that, Ms Malfoy,” Harry said, “I won’t gossip. I know all too well how dreadful it is, to be talked about behind one’s back.”

“I believe you do, Mr Potter. That is exactly why I trusted you of all people to be discreet.” Narcissa Malfoy said and stopped once more. “I’m afraid I have to leave you now. I think it might be better, if you talk to Cassiopeia and Draco without me. You will find them at the pavilion. I might add, it would be very reassuring for Cassy to know, that you intend to respect her need for confidentiality.” Suddenly she seemed to be worn out and exhausted.

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her,” Harry said, “and thank you for your honesty and trust. It’s a dreadful story… but I’m glad you told me.”

“Thank you for your time and for the willingness to hear me out. You are a good listener Mr Potter. That is a rare quality. No wonder you are wise for your age. ‘ _Listen and learn’_ we say. But I fear we rarely act accordingly.” She gave him a final nod and started to walk back towards the Manor.

Harry was stunned by this unexpected praise. Narcissa Malfoy calling him wise! And he very much doubted to actually be a good listener – he knew well enough how impatient he could be, how often he had interrupted Dumbledore or simply anybody who gave him advice. Although… maybe he was getting better at listening lately. 

Harry hesitated for a second before he turned to the door of the tea house. It might be a bit awkward facing Cass, now that he knew so much about her personal life. Still, as she had agreed on letting him in on her story, she seemed willing to trust him. What really worried him was Malfoy’s reaction. Would Draco behave even more hostile than usual? Would he be protective of Cass? Jealous? Harry felt he had to brace himself, before going through that door.

To his surprise Cass was waiting for him all by herself. She was sitting on a window sill and jumped up as soon as she saw him.

“I’m afraid it’s just us,” she said looking a bit insecure, “Draco didn’t want to wait for you. You still care for some tea?”

“Tea would be nice,” Harry said. “With milk, no sugar, please,” he added.

Cass poured the tea and they both sat down. This time the food was right on the table, tiny sandwiches, which seemed to be smoking and a plate of rather colourful muffins.

“The Malfoy’s House-elves must have felt adventurous today…” Harry said looking suspiciously at the food.

“The Elves had nothing to do with it – I made all of this myself!” Cass said proudly. “Aunt Mella taught me how to cook and I love it. These are Smoking Sandwiches – the ham is not just smoked but actually smoking – and Every-Flavour Muffins, but don’t worry, I always cheat, I sort out all the dubious beans before I pour them into the dough.”

Harry laughed and took a sandwich which squeaked slightly when bitten. The smoking ham tasted very nice.

Harry swallowed and cleared his voice, “Just to make sure… you don’t have to worry… your story is safe with me. I hate gossip – and not just about myself.”

Cass seemed relieved. “Yeah, Aunt Cissy was certain that I could count on your discretion.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief. “I never expected her to have such a good opinion of me. Not with her son and I fighting each other for years.”

Cass hesitated for a moment and then said, “Harry, I know you don’t like Draco and he’s certainly a bit of an idiot sometimes, but honestly – who isn’t? Still in his heart he’s a good person. He means the world to me.”

“If you say so,” Harry said, “don’t worry, I’m not going to rip his head off or something, we’ve managed not to kill each other for seven years now – so I guess we’ll survive another one,” Harry grinned. “I’m just glad you finally get a chance to go to Hogwarts, it’s such a great school. Ms Malfoy said you’ll be taking sixth-year’s lessons? I’m sorry you won’t be in our year but the sixth year students are a nice crowd as well.”

“Oh that’s fine with me. I just passed my O.W.L., I wouldn’t be able to follow your classes anyway,” Cass said.

“Your aunt said your grades are really good! And I’m sure you are brilliant as you managed to pass at all, considering you never attended regular classes,” Harry said.

Cass pulled a face, “Aunt Cissy is exaggerating. I’ve got just one ‘Outstanding’ for Transfiguration and that’s my favourite subject so it barely counts.”

“But Transfig’ is a really tough one! So you are brilliant indeed,” Harry laughed. “You remind me of one of my friends – she’s never satisfied with anything but an Outstanding too.”

“That’ll be Hermione Granger? Draco says she’s the best of your year, ‘ _a living breathing library_ ’, he calls her,” Cass said.

“You know what? I think that description might actually please her,” Harry said and risked biting into one of the muffins after some hesitation. It was quite nice, mostly pineapple and coconut flavour with a hint of lemon.

“Excellent muffin,” he said and then asked, “I guess you will take the Hogwarts Express as well? How about sitting with me and my friends on the train? Ginny Weasley will be there as well – my best mate’s sister – she’s also a sixth-year student.”

Cass chuckled, “That’s a funny way of describing your sweetheart – ‘ _my best mate’s sister_ ’!”

“Well, she’s not my girlfriend anymore. We split up over a year ago.” Harry said slightly embarrassed.

“Oops, sorry… Draco said… never mind. Anyway – as much as I would love to meet your friends, I’m not going to abandon Draco. I’m sorry, but I’ll only sit with you and your friends, if Draco is welcome too. He’s not just my cousin, you know, but also my best friend. Plus he has been my sole connection to Hogwarts for seven years. I’m not going to drop him now like a hot potato.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Harry reassured her. “Honestly – I’m quite impressed, that he spent his holidays studying for your sake – but don’t ever tell him I said that!”

Cass laughed, “Nah, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me!” She cocked her head. “If someday you want to let him know, that you don’t loath him completely, you will have to say so yourself.” She grinned rather wickedly.

“But to reassure you – it wasn’t too much of a sacrifice for him to spend his holidays at Edinburgh. Aunt Mella is really cool – much more relaxed than his parents – and since we were old enough to go out, Draco especially loved to spend August in Edinburgh. This year, with him being confined to the house and me preparing for O.W.L.s, it was different of course. But previous summers… we didn’t study all the time… we explored the Muggle Fringe Festival, went to bars and raves, it was wild. I could tell you stories about Draco that would really surprise you… but as you don’t do gossip…”

 _Draco Malfoy having fun at a Muggle arts festival? Draco Malfoy partying at Muggle clubs?_ Harry stared at her in disbelief. “Now you mention it, I might reconsider my position about gossip!”

Cass laughed and made a zipping gesture in front of her mouth.

Harry grinned. “Anyway – I’ll save two seats for you at the train. If Malfoy– Draco is willing to sit with us, both of you are welcome. But talking him into it might be hard work.”

Cass laughed and said, “Oh, don’t you worry, it’ll be far easier than you imagine…”

Harry raised his eyebrows, wondering what she was insinuating, when a tiny bird chirped at the open window and reminded Harry of Otto.

“I’m afraid I have to go fetch my owl now. Thanks for the tea, you’re an excellent, if adventurous cook! And I’m looking forward to seeing you again soon.”

“I’ll walk with you, if you don’t mind,” Cass said, “I’m curious about that bird, Aunt Cissy says he’s a bit of a clown?”

Harry praised his feathered friend as they made their way to the main building and told her some of Otto’s latest tricks. Right in front of the Manor they were met by Ms Malfoy, looking tense.

“Where’s Draco?” she asked.

“He went back to the Manor ages ago, when you were still talking to Harry,” Cass replied. “I guess he’ll be in his room. What’s the matter, Aunt Cissy?”

“No need to worry, my dear. I’m sure it’s nothing… we’ve just been fire-called by the Ministry. Apparently something’s wrong with Draco’s tracking spell again, so an officer from the department of Magical Law Enforcement and our probation officer have announced to come by and take care of it. They’ll be here in half an hour.” She seemed to hesitate, then went on, “Cassy my dear, would you please be so kind and help me find Draco? Sorry to steal Cassiopeia from you, Mr Potter.”

“Of course Ms Malfoy – I’ll just pick up Otto and then I’m gone in an instant!” Harry said.

With a final nod from Ms Malfoy and a broad grin from Cass they disappeared into the Manor. Harry hurried to the aviary eager to get out of the place before Josh arrived. He certainly did not want to meet his crush so soon after that dreadful letter.

He stepped into the bright bird-house and was surprised to see Draco Malfoy leaning against the wall next to the door, hands stuffed in his trouser pockets and a strained expression on his face.

“Hey, Malfoy, your mother is looking for you-“ Harry started to say.

But Draco interrupted immediately, “My mother will have to wait. Listen closely, I’ll only say it once: If you hurt Cass, make fun of her, mistreat her in any way–“

“Then what? Are you threatening me?! Well, that’s rich coming from you, as you didn’t even retrieve your wand so far! And if you don’t join your mother in a flash to see those Ministry officials, who are going to drop by, you might be without a wand just a bit longer!” Harry shouted.

“I don’t mind! My life is crap anyway! This is not about me, it’s about Cass!” Draco shot back.

“Right,” Harry said oddly touched by Draco’s disregard for his own interests. “But if you want to support your cousin, then you better hurry to your mum and sort out, whatever problem the Ministry has with your tracking spell. Hard to grasp as it is, Cass really loves you and she needs you to be at Hogwarts next week. And believe it or not, I like her and I have no intentions whatsoever of harming her. So fuck off – you prick!”

Draco was white as a sheet. His mouth twitched as if he wanted to say something but he kept quiet and just stared at Harry.

Harry blinked. Draco’s grey eyes… had they always been so intense?

Without another word Draco turned around and left the aviary.

Otto sailed to Harry’s shoulder hooting softly and Harry felt somewhat comforted by his pet. He sighed.

“Well, he really is a prick, isn’t he? Still, what he did for Cass… oh, bugger, let’s go home, Otto – I want to enjoy some more Malfoy-free days before school starts and I have to see that git every day again.”


	6. Out and About

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay home and stay safe ... and leave a comment maybe?

“So – where is that mysterious cousin of Malfoy’s?” Ron asked when the train finally left Kings Cross station.

Harry shared a compartment of the Hogwarts Express with Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Otto was safe in his cage atop of their trunks and fast asleep. His pet seemed to be an adult owl now, as he had lately submitted to the biological rhythm of its species.

Cass had fire-called Harry the day before to confirm that she and Draco would indeed sit with them, which had surprised Harry quite a bit. But as promised he kept the remaining two seats for Cass and – reluctantly – for Malfoy. He baffled his friends by turning down Dean, Seamus and even Neville who had asked for the seats.

Ron continued, “I still can’t believe you are sending away our friends to save a seat for Malfoy and his cousin of all people… that Malfoy-babe sure must be hot.”

“What?!” Harry choked.

“Ron has a point. She’s a mystery in herself, having never been to Hogwarts and suddenly turning up to take sixth-year’s lessons – that’s strange…,” Hermione said.

Ginny added, “… and you behaving all awkward just made us wonder if maybe you are into blondes now? You said she looks very much like Malfoy, right? Come to think of it, he might be quite handsome, nice butt and all – if one ignored his character.” Ginny grinned and obviously enjoyed the shock on Ron’s face as much as on Harry’s, who felt he had to make some clarifications and fast.

“Hermione, you’ll have to ask her yourself, why she never was at Hogwarts up until now,” he said, “And no – I most certainly don’t fancy her! She’s… she’s not my type. At all.”

Which made Harry wonder, what his friends would say, if they knew whom he actually fancied at the moment? He had tried very hard not to think about Josh for the last week of his holidays. But since they had boarded the train, that would eventually bring him face to face with his crush, he had to admit he was quite nervous to see Josh again, he dreaded this moment as much as he craved it.

A sudden knock at the door drew his attention back to present company. The door was shoved aside and two pale faces with identical blonde fringes stared into their compartment, one grinning, one frowning.

“Hi Harry, hi everyone – I’m Cass,” she smiled brightly if a little nervous, “sorry we’re a bit late, there was some minor security problem at the entrance to the platform.” Cass exchanged a quick glance with her cousin.

Harry assumed there had been another problem with Malfoy’s tracking spell. Had Malfoy already gotten his wand back? Maybe he should be prepared for an attack considering their last argument? The guy looked extremely upset. Well, Harry was determined to be polite for Cass’ sake, so he should at least give it a try.

“Hi Cass, come in – both of you – take a seat,” Harry said, “This is Ginny, Hermione and Ron.” His friends nodded their greetings.

Cass and Draco stored their trunks away and sat down. Harry’s friends stared at the newcomers, as if they didn’t believe what they were seeing until Ginny blurted, “Wow, you two really could be identical twins! Harry told us you look alike – but I didn’t expect… this is… wow.”

Draco Malfoy snorted, “Well Ginevra, yours is not the only family to show some likeness, believe it or not.”

Ron opened his mouth to shoot back, but was beaten to it by Cass hissing, “Shut it, Dray!”

Then she turned to Ginny and said, “You are quite right, we are able to pass as twins and believe me, we made good use of it, when we were kids. Fooled our parents quite a bit, didn’t we Draco?” she turned to her cousin, trying to include him into the conversation. Draco rolled his eyes and leaned back into his seat as if he tried to blend in with the upholstering.

“Aren’t you in a brilliant mood today,” Cass muttered before turning her attention back to the others. “Well, at least one of us is happy – I’m totally excited, can’t believe I’m finally going to Hogwarts!” Her grin was as wide as possible.

“How come you didn’t attend school up until now?” Hermione asked, “I thought it’s compulsory for all kids with magical abilities?”

Shooting Harry a grateful glance for having kept his promise, Cass replied, “Well, my father insisted and got away with it. But you are quite right, it’s compulsory, ever since the Act of Magical Education was passed in 1778 as…”

“… stated in ‘ _Hogwarts. A History’_.” Hermione fell in and both girls grinned at each other. _Yes_ , Harry thought with relief, _kindred spirits_. He had counted on Hermione being drawn to a brilliant mind.

“Finally someone other than myself quoting from that book – what a nice surprise,” Hermione said carefully.

“I had to gain most of my magical education from books up until now…” Cass shrugged. “Plus I’ve always loved books.”

“So… what’s your favourite book then?” Hermione asked with an innocent voice.

“Wow, that’s… that’s a rather intimate question…,” Cass stuttered, “… it’s impossible to choose just one… I would have to name at least a dozen or so…”

Hermione beamed at her but Harry, Ron and Ginny laughed out loud.

“Congratulations! That was the correct answer to a trick question,” Harry explained to a startled Cass, “If you had made the mistake of actually naming just one book, Hermione would have filed you as ‘illiterate’ – like the rest of us.”

“Nah, you’re not illiterate. Just lazy.” Hermione said with a grin.

“But you love us none the less,” Ron said embracing his girlfriend and planting a smack on her cheek, which made everybody laugh.

Everybody but Draco, who seemed to observe their friendly chatter with disdain. _Suit yourself, you arrogant brat,_ Harry thought.

“Home-schooling is done among Muggles as well, you know,” Hermione said to Cass, ”some very conservative parents like to keep their kids at home to ‘preserve’ them from learning stuff they don’t agree with, no matter if it’s solid Muggle science.”

“Yeah, I know… I went to a Muggle school and have some close Muggle friends.” Cass said. “But my father had reasons of his own, he most certainly didn’t want to preserve me… doesn’t matter anymore – I’m here and I intend to enjoy every moment of it!”

“So you passed your A-Levels? And Harry said you took O.W.L.s as well? Wow, that’s brilliant. I wish I could have done that,” Hermione said with envy, “I used to read Muggle science books during the summer holidays for some years, but since Harry came of age and with being on the run, the war and everything… I’m afraid I gave it up. I’m totally in default with my Muggle education. And Muggle studies lessons at Hogwarts are no help at all. I don’t need lessons about how to use a dishwasher, I want astrophysics!”

“You know what – we could cooperate! I’ll help you with your Muggle education, if you coach me?” Cass said eagerly. “I mean, if you like?”

Suddenly Draco couldn’t keep silent any longer and said, “Cass, relax. You won’t need any coaching, you are better than most of the sixth-years – I’ve told you so a hundred times.” He pulled a face.

“What about Potions? You always said I’m rubbish at Potions?” Cass was obviously relieved that Draco finally joined their conversation.

“May I remind you that you passed your Potions O.W.L. with ‘Exceeds Expectations’? The same grade you got for most of the other subjects except Transfiguration, which you passed with ‘Outstanding’?” Draco said raising his eyebrows.

Cass blushed, but the others looked impressed.

“Wow, that’s much better than my grades – or even Harry’s for that matter,” Ron said astounded.

“For once I agree with your cousin. Reluctantly.” Hermione gave Draco a stern look, “He has a point. With such grades you will need no coaching at all.”

“Yeah, maybe not. But it’ll be awkward to perform magic in front of a crowd of people watching – I’m afraid I’ll make a fool of myself.” Cass sighed.

“We’ve all been there,” Ginny grinned, “tell you what, since we are going to attend the same classes, we could sit together, if you want? I’ll back you up and you’ll be just fine.”

“And if you still want some extra lessons, I’ll be glad to be of service,” Hermione offered, “at least as long as you help me with Muggle science?”

The three girls grinned at each other and Harry was unsurprised to see that Cass was as easily making friends as he had expected her to do.

 _Which must be tough for Malfoy_ , Harry thought. He remembered Arthur Weasley saying, Slytherin house would be depleted of older students this year. School attendance was only compulsory until O.W.L., everyone was free to quit afterwards and quite a number of Slytherin students had done just that. Some of them simply had to earn their own living because their parents were imprisoned. Other families had fled the country altogether. And no less than four Slytherin students had died during the war, Vincent Crabbe among them.

Therefore most of Malfoy’s usual crowd would be gone, and being on probation would not increase his popularity either. If his cousin was hanging out with ‘Potter’s gang’, as Harry was well aware his circle of friends was labelled, Draco was prone to be rather lonely this year. Harry realized this thought didn’t please him half as much as he would have expected.

He looked at Draco. The guy seemed less upset than before, his grey eyes were fondly watching Cass and if Harry wasn’t completely mistaken, Draco seemed to be as relieved to see her making friends as Harry himself. _Maybe for once the selfish prick cares more about someone else than about his ego? It certainly looks like it…_ Harry was oddly touched by this idea.

With a sharp knock the compartment door was opened once again and Harry’s heart somersaulted at the sudden sight of Josh Jordan. _Professor Jordan, that is_ – Harry had to remind himself.

“Hallo everybody!” Josh flashed his signature smile at them before turning to Draco, “Mr Malfoy, would you please come with me for a moment?”

Draco flushed and stepped immediately to the train corridor.

Before closing the door Josh turned back to the others with an apologetic smile, “Sorry to borrow your friend for a moment – no need to worry, just formalities.”

For a moment his eyes met Harry’s. They were still as chocolate brown and warm as he remembered them to be. Oh Merlin, he had no idea how to survive D.A.D.A. without making a complete fool of himself.

“Wow, that was Josh Jordan – he really is hot!” Hermione sighed as soon as the door was closed. Turning towards Cass she asked, “He’s Draco’s probation officer, right? Probably making sure the transfer is safe?”

Ron looked rather displeased by his girlfriend’s admiration for the young Auror and said, ”But he won’t stay at Hogwarts all the time, I guess? He must have more important stuff to do than watching Malfoy.”

Cass laughed. “You are quite right, he has more important duties. That’s exactly why he will stay at school – he’s the new D.A.D.A. teacher, don’t you know?”

Ginny, Ron and Hermione all gasped with surprise and shouted at the same time, “That’s brilliant!” – “What?!” – “Wow!”

“I don’t get it,” Ginny finally said, “Dad told us, Kingsley would teach D.A.D.A. this year!”

“As Head of the Auror Department, Kingsley has too many other obligations to be at Hogwarts all the time,” Harry explained, “he’ll just drop by occasionally, most of the classes will be held by Josh.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes and stared at Harry. ”So you knew? How come you never mentioned it? Let us ramble about Josh, when we were having breakfast at The Early Bird?”

“I only found out later, when I met him at Andromeda’s – I told you about that!” Harry said somewhat defensively.

“Yeah, you told us Josh Jordan was there,” Ginny said thoughtfully, “but you certainly didn’t tell us he was going to be one of the teachers… come to think of it, you were rather vague about that meeting…”

Harry felt a violent flush creeping up from his neck to his cheeks. He wanted to say something, explain himself – but nothing but a croak left his throat. Ginny was way too observant. And being his ex, she knew him far too well.

Her eyes searched his face until she finally said, “You fancy him – right, Harry?”

Harry felt as if Ginny had dropped a bomb. His friends were staring at him. Ron looked as if hit by a truck. Hermione seemed surprised, while having a light bulb moment at the same time – in fact her expression was oddly familiar from watching her solving arithmancy problems.

Ron turned to his sister. “Are you crazy? Harry’s your ex-boyfriend – you know damn well he’s straight!” And he gave a slightly hysterical laugh.

“Well I… Josh… it doesn’t matter anyway ‘cause he’s a teacher,” Harry said weakly. “But about being straight? Not really.”

“Thought so,” Ginny said softly, “I guessed you might fall for a guy one day. You don’t mind me saying that, Harry? I mean, you were a totally nice boyfriend but… but we both knew something was missing, right?”

Harry groaned.

Cass seemed not surprised at all. “No need to be embarrassed, Harry! Josh Jordan obviously has that specific effect on lots of guys and girls alike. They crush wherever his gaze rests for a moment. Professor Jordan will have a fan-club of adoring students in no time.” She shrugged before adding with a grin, “Even I have to admit he’s eye candy. Still, I’m immune.”

Now his friends gawped at Cass instead of Harry and she seemed to take the attention much better than him. She shrugged once more, grinned at them and said, “Yep, magic dyke, that’s me and that’s just fine.”

What was she doing? Trying to support him? Harry was unable to cope any longer. “Rain check,” he groaned, scrambled to his feet and left the compartment.

He stood in the corridor just outside of the door, clutching the railing hard and sighed heavily. The train rocked and rattled as they were making their way up north. Harry heard his friends’ animated voices from behind the door but couldn’t understand a word. So they finally knew he was gay. He felt relieved – mostly. And maybe a bit nervous. Ginny had guessed all along and Hermione also didn’t seem totally surprised. Ron would come around as well. Ron adored his gay brother Charlie and even had admitted to fancying Josh himself as a kid – his best mate wouldn’t abandon Harry for being gay, he was sure of it.

So all in all his coming out to them had gone rather well. A bit awkward but that was to be expected. If Harry wanted to be out and proud, he better got used to awkward moments as there were more to come for sure. Hopefully one day the fact, that Harry Potter, all time hero of the wizarding world, was gay would be common knowledge and nothing remarkable at all.

Harry was glad to have the corridor for himself alone. Josh and Draco were nowhere to be seen. Draco… what would he have to say about Harry being gay? Just a few weeks ago, before Harry had met Cass, he would have dreaded Malfoy’s reaction expecting nothing but verbal abuse. But Cass and Draco were really close and knowing how supportive the guy had been to his cousin, Harry had no idea what to expect. He was just glad Malfoy hadn’t been present when his closest friends found out.

Cass listening in felt different, because she too was queer. Harry was pretty sure, she had outed herself to lessen his embarrassment – in spite of being so keen on her privacy. Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He really wasn’t very good at accepting support.

Cass would probably want to tell Malfoy as well, Harry guessed. He had to assure her that was okay with him. She shouldn’t feel like having to keep a secret about something that eventually would be public knowledge anyway. 

The compartment door opened for a moment and Cass stepped out. She bit her lower lip in the exact same way Draco did, when he was upset or confused, Harry realised.

“You ok, Harry?” she asked softly. “Your friends are cool about it, by the way.”

“Yeah, I assumed they would,” Harry said with a rush of affection for the three people sitting in the compartment. They were his best friends. They always would be, no matter whom he fancied, he was sure about it.

“You are quite lucky, you know,” Cass smiled at him and Harry mused again how very much alike she was to her cousin, “to be accepted no matter what. It’s not something to be taken for granted.”

“Yeah, I know.” Harry sighed, “I’m sorry about your family.”

“No need to feel sorry for me, not all of my family are homophobic idiots. Draco, Aunt Mella and even Aunt Cissy always stood firmly at my side. They are the family that counts.”

“I know,” Harry nodded towards the door, “they are my family of choice, plus all the other Weasleys. I owe them my life and my sanity,” he said and hesitated a bit before adding, “look, I’m so sorry, you felt you had to come out as well – it really wasn’t necessary. But the others will keep their mouth shut, if we ask them. I know you don’t want to talk about it.“

“What?” Cass looked confused. “Oh no! That’s no problem at all!” She grinned widely. “I’ve always been out and I certainly don’t want to hide now! Hey, just look at me – don’t you think people will get it no matter what I tell them? Believe me I would go for a different styling, if I wanted to pass as straight.”

Now Harry was puzzled. “But… Ms Malfoy insisted you wanted to keep your story private? And you seemed to be pleased when I assured you I wouldn’t talk about it?”

“Well, I certainly don’t want people to know about my parents abandoning me,” Cass pulled a face, “I hate to be pitied, you know. That’s what I don’t want to be talked about, not being queer.”

“Ah… of course,” Harry was relieved to hear that Cass hadn’t outed herself for his sake only and smiled at her. “You know what, I’m not sure if you’ll need my support at school – but I’m awfully glad you are here. Feels like a huge back-up for or my own coming out at Hogwarts.”

“Wow, that’s… – I’m really glad too.” Cass beamed at him. She looked so cute, Harry suddenly remembered Ginny saying, Malfoy was actually quite handsome. Maybe if that git didn’t frown all the time…

“I’ll be totally supportive, Harry!” Cass went on, “I have to admit I was a bit surprised your friends didn’t know?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure until recently… just never came around telling them my doubts, other stuff always seemed more important, like fighting Voldemort and such nonsense.” He grinned at her. “How come you weren’t surprised at all? We’ve just met and still you knew?”

Cass shrugged. “I seem to have this hyper sensitive gaydar – if there is even just a hint of queerness in someone, I’ll spot it. But I do believe being gay is as much a choice as it is a disposition,” she said firmly, “everybody should have the right to decide for themselves… whom they want to tell and how they want to live.” 

“Yeah,” Harry said and drew a deep breath, “listen, about Malfoy – I mean Draco – I know how close you are, so if you want to tell him… about me being gay – I won’t mind. Honestly it’s okay. He’ll find out soon enough. I’ll survive whatever he has to say about it. Just leave out the… the Josh thing, ok?”

Cass beamed at Harry, “Oh Harry, Draco will be del–…,” she caught herself before adding, “It’s none of my business, but I guess you are in for a surprise.” She grinned mysteriously.

Before Harry even had a chance to ask, what she was talking about, there was a noise at the end of the train car and the man himself appeared, walking slowly towards them. 

Cass turned to her cousin shouting, “Everything alright, Dray? Or shall I go kick your probation officer’s sexy bottom?”

To Harry’s delight Draco blushed as violently as he himself would have done in his place – until he became aware that right behind Draco somebody else had stepped into the corridor.

“Oh shit, I’ll just throw myself out of the train, shall I…” Cass said looking mortified.

“That won’t be necessary, Ms Malfoy,” Josh Jordan said with a frown, before he continued with a hint of amusement in his voice, “But as your future teacher I would certainly prefer to be addressed as ‘ _Professor Jordan’_. And I might add, that as much as it delights me to hear you appreciate my physiognomy, you might save us both some discomfort by keeping your thoughts to yourself.”


	7. Mates and Mats

The rest of the train ride went by rather uneventfully. Harry, Cass and Draco entered the compartment together. Unsurprisingly neither Harry nor his friends brought up the subject of Harry’s sexual identity again in Draco’s presence. Ginny and Ron quickly absorbed themselves in a game of wizard’s chess. The others pulled out their books and started to read. Hermione’s book looked like a Muggle science book full of charts and diagrams. Cass tried to prepare for school by diving into ‘ _Perfect Potions. A Compendium for Curious Chaps’_. Harry had no idea what Draco was reading, as the secretive sod had wrapped his book into a protective cover, a rather nice cover of soft black leather, Harry had to admit. When he tried to get a glimpse, Draco just held the book closer.

“Not a chance, Potter. If you are so bored, get a book of your own. I certainly will not share mine,” he snorted.

The others chuckled and Harry contemplated, since when his friends were ready to laugh about Draco bloody Malfoy’s jokes… he sighed, closed his eyes and dozed off.

A good time later Harry awoke with a start, while the others were laughing again.

“What’s up?” he asked rubbing first his eyes and then the stiff neck he had gained from sleeping crouched in his seat.

Hermione smiled and said, “You have been snoring for some time, but don’t worry, it was highly entertaining.”

“But… but I don’t snore!” protested Harry.

“Oh yes, you do!” chimed Ron and Ginny together.

Harry felt embarrassed enough without Draco Malfoy’s obvious glee about that intimate piece of information. He just wanted to get out of that suffocating compartment and was more than relieved to see the familiar lights of Hogsmeade train station approaching fast.

When the train came to a screeching halt, they all scrambled to their feet, put on robes and collected their trunks. 

The air outside was fresh and cool. While they were waiting for the coaches to the castle Harry wondered how many of the students still could not see Thestrals after the war? He knew for sure that every single person who had fought in the battle of Hogwarts must see the skeletal horses by now. But what about Cass? Had she already encountered death?

When a coach drew nearer to their group, Cass reached out to streak one of the Thestral’s head casually. Feeling Harry’s gaze upon her, she said quietly, “Yeah, I can see them. Last Easter a group of Death Eaters attacked Muggles in our neighbourhood. Aunt Mella tried to help the victims and I assisted her… but she couldn’t save all of them. A little boy, he was only two years old… he passed away.”

“Oh Merlin, that’s horrible,” Harry said. Watching a toddler die, unable to help – the sheer idea of it seemed to put even the many deaths he had seen into perspective.

Draco Malfoy stood next to his cousin and had heard her story. He rested his hand on her shoulder. “But this is over, Cassy, we’re all safe now,” he said and Harry had never heard him talk with so much tenderness.

“Harry!” the rough voice of Hagrid drowned out all other noise as Hogwarts’ gamekeeper found his way to them.

“Hi, Hagrid – good to see you again,” mumbled Harry pressed against Hagrid’s chest by the full force of a bear-hug.

“Ah, hullo Hermione, Ginny and Ron,” waving to Harry’s friends, Hagrid finally let go of a very crumpled Harry, “good to have you all back at Hogwarts! It’s going to be a great year, with all the changes… just wait and see.” Hagrid grinned, but seemed to hesitate a bit at the sight of Draco and Cass standing side by side with his favourite students.

“That’s Cass Malfoy, she’s a cousin of… him,” Harry made a vague gesture at Draco, avoiding to use his first name. On the other hand he could hardly continue calling him ‘ _Malfoy’_ as Cass was also a Malfoy – right?

Hagrid just nodded at the two blondes before turning to Harry with eager looks. “So where is that new owl of yours? Show me!”

Harry proudly presented Otto in his cage and the bird blinked his huge eyes at Hagrid, who immediately started to fawn over the owl.

“I’ll take him to the owlery, Harry, make sure he settles in nicely,” Hagrid said eagerly before babbling to the bird, “No need to be afraid, Ottie, Uncle Hagrid will protect you!”

“I’m sure you will,” grinned Harry, “thanks Hagrid, I’ll visit Otto tomorrow.”

“Hey, guys and girls – get into the coach, will you!” Ron shouted clapping his hands. “I’m starving and the quicker we get to the castle the sooner the feast will begin.”

With a quiet understanding they all let Cass have the best seat at the front, so she would be the first one to get a glimpse of the castle. Harry knew she had been to Hogwarts before visiting Professor McGonagall with her aunt during holidays. But seeing the castle at night was something else entirely. When their coach finally turned around the mighty pillars of the gate and the castle became visible in its full glory, Cass gasped. Harry was not surprised to see tears in her eyes.

“Oh Merlin, I’m here… I’m finally here,” Cass’ voice was breaking. She hugged Draco tight, who was sitting next to her. Harry had to look twice – if he was not completely mistaken, Draco’s eyes were shining suspiciously as well…

What to make of that, Harry had no idea. Draco Malfoy, prick extraordinaire and first class ass, was obviously capable of tenderness and caring deeply for another human being. Which didn’t prevent Draco from stomping on Harry’s foot without an apology, climbing out of the coach a few minutes later. Harry sighed.

He was rather surprised when Headmistress McGonagall herself approached their little group.

“Cassy my dear, welcome home in the wizarding world, where you truly belong,” said McGonagall and her softness astonished Harry nearly as much as Malfoy’s. She gave Draco a rather friendly nod, before she addressed the others.

“I see you have made some acquaintances already?” McGonagall regarded their group with satisfaction, “It pleases me very much, I have to say, that you, Mr Potter, Miss Granger, Miss and Mr Weasley, are ready to befriend our new student. I still have to borrow Miss Malfoy for a minute – you will see her again soon enough.” She gestured at Cass to follow her and the two of them left to a side entrance.

Harry stared after them.

“What was that about – what’s going on?” Ginny asked.

“She’s to be sorted backstage,” Draco explained, “There’s no sorting ceremony tonight, the first-years have been sorted a month ago and nobody wants Cass to be exposed on her first night.” He seemed tense and Harry could well imagine why. If Narcissa Malfoy was right, Cass would not be a Slytherin – which must be tough for her cousin.

Outcries of astonishment from those students, who had already entered the castle, drew everybody’s attention.

“What the fuck…?” Ron shouted, “Come on, let’s have a look what’s going on!”

When they entered the great hall Harry gasped. The enchanted ceiling, the staff table at the front of the hall and even the bright banners at the walls were familiar enough, but the seating arrangements for the students were completely different. The four long house tables side by side, each of them decorated in house colours were gone. Instead there were seven smaller tables scattered around the room. The new arrivals had no idea where to sit but one of the tables close to the staff was fully occupied by smaller kids already.

“Wow, that’s a major change,” Hermione said, “we are no longer seated according to houses but to cohorts!”

“Cohorts? What’s that about?” Ron looked rather confused.

“Hermione’s right, I get it,” said Ginny, “look, all of the first year students share one table – so we are seated according to our age group, our year! I just wonder, why there are not eight tables but only seven?”

“I assume seventh and eighth-years have to share … we aren’t as many as the smaller kids,” Draco said with a seemingly bored voice, ”at least my house is rather depleted of older students and many Ravenclaws haven’t returned as well.” 

But at least one very special Ravenclaw was back again. Harry grinned, seeing Luna approach.

She beamed brightly. “Finally you are here! Come on over to our table, we sit right in the middle of the hall – isn’t that fantastic! All of the seventh- and eighth-years together!”

“How do you know this is our table?” Ron looked perplexed.

“Have a look at the place mats – you have to find one with your name on it, that’s where you are meant to sit.” Luna explained. “Oh, yours is right next to mine, Ronald – and what a lovely pattern you’ve got!”

Harry stared at the colourful little mats in front of him. Each place mat seemed to be of a unique pattern and with a name woven into it. Luna’s mat showed a delirious floral pattern in shades of blue, with plenty of red and yellow lines drawn into it but without a trace of green. Ron’s pattern was a bright red and yellow tartan, with some finer lines of green and blue.

“That’s the house colours – the mats give away how much of each house’s qualities you’ve got!” Harry shouted excitedly and started to look out for his own name.

“Over here, Potter,” Draco Malfoy said with a frown pointing at the place mat with Harry’s name on in – right opposite of his own. Harry realized with a sinking feeling, he was meant to sit facing Malfoy. Oh, what fun that would be.

Harry’s mat showed a red and green herringbone pattern, with lots of yellow and some blue freckles. The amount of green was no surprise to Harry, he had been aware of his Slytherin tendencies for some time now. He decided he liked his own pattern well enough.

He glanced across the table at Draco Malfoy’s mat – and had to admit that it was of exquisite beauty. Lots of green and blue lines formed a vivid picture of waves, with some yellow and bright red highlights looking like sunshine glittering on water.

“Wow, you’ve got a nice pattern, Malfoy, I’ll give you that” Harry said, “though there’s not much courage in your backbone obviously!” He grinned at Draco.

“And there’s hardly any brain in your head obviously!” Malfoy snapped in reply referring to the scarce amount of blue in Harry’s pattern.

Harry leaned back crossing his arms. “Your really don’t get it, do you? The difference between a friendly tease and plain insult?” he said frowning, “Look, I’m willing to be polite for Cass’ sake but I won’t take your shit, understood?”

Draco blushed violently, but was spared an answer by Blaise Zabini, who fell into the seat to Draco’s left with a booming, “Good evening, folks – who would have thought I might end up sitting close to The-Boy-Who-Lived!” He grinned at Harry who rolled his eyes in reply.

The seat to Draco’s right was still empty, even without a place mat – but not for long.

Cass reappeared. She looked rather flushed and put the place mat she was holding onto the empty spot at the table between Draco’s and Ginny’s place.

“Aunt Cissy was right, I’m afraid, Dray… “ she said apologetically. Her mat had a similar wavy pattern as Draco’s, but the colours were mostly red and lots of blue which gave the whole thing a look of bright violet, with quite a number of yellow highlights but scarcely any green.

“Welcome to Gryffindor – home of the brave at heart!” Ron said. “Who would have ever thought that possible, a pure-blood by the name of Malfoy with enough spirit in them for our house!” Ron grinned at Draco.

Harry held his breath expecting Draco to explode again, but the guy just snorted. He seemed to take Ron’s remark much better than Harry’s.

“Congrats, Cass,” Draco said, turning to his cousin, ”well, it was to be expected. You are much better off in any other house than Slytherin… as we are presently not at the height of our popularity I’m afraid. Plus Gryffindor sure can use some functioning brains besides Granger’s.”

“Thank you, Malfoy, for that heartfelt compliment, much appreciated,” Hermione deadpanned. She was seated between Harry and Ron, facing Cass. The colours of her own place mat were very much like Cass’, though Hermione’s pattern was one of tiny letters. She smiled at Cass and said, “Welcome – we’re lucky to have you!”

“It’s so great to have you in our house, Cass – I hope we’ll be roommates too!” Ginny spontaneously threw one arm around Cass' shoulder, who seemed to freeze for a moment before she relaxed and smiled at Ginny.

Headmistress McGonagall rose from the staff table and the noise and chatter ebbed down. The place to Harry’s right side was still empty. The name ‘ _Longbottom’_ was clearly visible in the bright red of the placemat’s pattern and Harry turned around to gesture towards Neville, who still hadn’t figured out where to sit.

“Another Gryffindor with hardly any brains… excuse me, hardly any _blue_ to speak of. Hello Longbottom.” Draco muttered with a lopsided grin in Neville’s direction.

Neville sat down with a smirk. “I love you too, Malfoy!”

They all laughed and Harry had to admit, Draco’s tone was less vicious and more joking than before. _Looks like he’s not totally free of humour after all,_ Harry thought.

“Welcome!” Headmistress McGonagall boomed to the hall at large and Harry was as amazed as ever about that fog horn of a voice coming from such a fragile looking old lady. “As all of you have finally found your place –“ she shot Neville a stern look, “– you might be well aware that we, the staff of Hogwarts, have made some changes to the school. We like to think of them as improvements. The war that lies behind us, the deaths of so many brave witches and wizards, made us reconsider our traditions. We have questioned each and every one of them. Do these traditions still serve us? Thus we have asked ourselves. Or does a certain habit fuel conflict and hatred?

“You will find that we have decided to keep some and to abolish others. Before I tell you what you have to expect and most importantly, where you will rest your head tonight – let us all rise for a moment of silence to remember those who are no longer with us at this new beginning. For great is our loss and greatly missed are those who have died – among them the last two Headmasters of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape. Let us mourn them and all the other brave men and women who gave their life for freedom and peace.”

All of them scrambled to their feet and then silence fell over the hall. Harry closed his eyes. Faces of lost friends and family members were crossing his mind and he felt a lump in his throat. Dumbledore and Snape, Tonks and Lupin, Fred and Sirius, his mother and his father… the stream of faces seemed endless and Harry gulped down his pain.

“Thank you. Please be seated.” McGonagall’s voice drew Harry back to the present. When he opened his eyes again, he found Draco Malfoy looking right at him… with a rather strange expression on his face. Could it be… compassion? They locked eyes for a moment, before Draco flushed in his usual way and dropped his gaze. Why was Malfoy staring at him? Slightly irritated Harry decided to focus on the staff table instead.

Close to McGonagall sat the heads of houses, Professors Sprout, Flitwick and Slughorn plus a middle aged witch Harry had never seen before. Maybe this was Nektaria Tharros, the new head of Gryffindor house, Arthur Weasley had been talking about? With her olive skin tone, black curls and dark eyes she looked like a Hellenic goddess, Harry thought, very beautiful but like someone you wouldn’t dare to cross. Further down the table, between Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hagrid, Josh Jordan was sitting – and Harry was surprised to realize he had not thought about Josh since their last encounter on the train. Maybe he was able to get over his crush after all? 

“We, the staff of Hogwarts consider dining arrangements to be an important means of communication. That is why students of all four houses of Hogwarts will share tables from now on, according to their progress in education. On the other hand – for living arrangements the houses keep their traditional dormitories and their common rooms as well.” A collective sigh of relief went through the hall which seemed to make the Headmistress smile. “First-years to seventh-year students will sleep at their respective house dormitories as usual.”

Harry turned to look at Ron and Hermione with raised eyebrows. What about the eighth-years, what about them?

“As we have not enough space for the larger than usual number of students, an extra dormitory for all of the eighth-year students has been installed, which also serves as a guest house. Professor Jordan will be so kind as to see the eighth-year students to their own dormitory. That is all for now, further news will be discussed tomorrow morning at breakfast. In closing I would like to quote our most famous Headmaster Albus Dumbledore – ‘ _Tuck in’_!” McGonagall shouted.

Everybody clapped their hands and the delicious food prepared by Hogwarts’ House-elves appeared at the tables.

“Finally she’s talking sense!” Ron exclaimed loading his plate with food. “I’m just glad the changes don’t include putting all of us on a vegan diet or something!”

“Merlin forbid, you should have to eat something healthy,” Draco said with a snort, but Ron just grinned. Harry stared at him in disbelief – Ron seemed not to mind Draco’s remark. Maybe they would be able to get along alright, after all.


	8. Early Morning Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine? Drarry-Time!

Early next morning Harry awoke with a start. He listened closely but could hear nothing but his own fast heartbeat. Was it the silence of his new bedroom that had startled him? Harry wondered. This room was spacious, comfortable and – extremely quiet. Never in his life had he slept in a room as still as this one. At the Dursleys’ he had been used to a cacophony of Muggle media sound – the telly’s constant chatter, blasting radio programs and Dudley’s shooter games. During his previous years at Hogwarts, sharing a bedroom with Ron, Dean and Seamus, Harry had never been the only one who snored. Add Ron’s vivid sleep-talking and the occasional embarrassing noise of someone wanking, their sleeping arrangements had been anything but quiet. Even his beloved bedroom at Number Twelve – which was quiet enough but of course full of London’s white noise – could not match the absolute stillness surrounding him now.

Last evening when the eighth-years had taken hold of their new residence, they were thrilled by having single bedrooms – and all of them with en suite bathrooms! The Guest House, as the new dormitory was named, was part of a purpose built edifice next to the castle. A spacious gym including a large indoor pool took up the ground floor, upstairs were plenty of guest rooms.

The second floor was entirely given to the eighth-year students this year. Harry’s room was at the far end of one long corridor, with windows facing the forbidden forest. At the moment it was still dark outside, but he was sure to have a glorious view of the grounds behind the castle when the sun came out. The students had not only rejoiced in their rooms, but also marvelled at the lavish common room at the centre of their floor, with comfortable chairs and sofas, an upright piano and even a fully equipped tea kitchen.

Harry stretched and yawned in his bed… the idea of a nice cup of early morning tea seemed very tempting. He got up. Still in his sleeping attire of t-shirt and boxers, he just put on sweatpants and went to the common room.

He opened the door – and froze. Obviously Harry was not the first student awake. Draco Malfoy, fully dressed already, was sitting on a sofa in front of one large bay window. Legs stretched along the sofa he was sipping from a cup of tea and reading this book with the black cover again.

“Why… what are you doing?” croaked Harry.

“Good morning to you too, Potter,” Draco Malfoy said with raised eyebrows. “As your eyesight must have left you completely in the course of last night, let me tell you: I am reading a book and drinking tea.”

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean,” said Harry.

“I can assure you, I don’t! As usual I have not the slightest idea what is going on in your funny little head.”

“Fine,” Harry sighed, “Good morning. Why are you up already?”

“I happen to be a morning person, Potter. That means I like to get up early and enjoy some quiet time by myself before other people start getting on my nerves,” Draco said somewhat reproachfully, “if possible.”

“Oh… me too.” said Harry. “Morning person, that is. Well, you will have to share the common room or fuck off to your own bedroom, if you don’t want to see me.”

Draco flushed and turned his attention back to the book with a shrug. _Must be fascinating reading,_ Harry mused while filling the kettle and watching Draco. The guy looked immaculate wearing a light blue sweater over his usual white shirt and black pants. Blonde fringe falling into his face, his pale skin glowed softly in the light of the reading lamp at his side. He looked elegant, relaxed and ever so full of himself, Harry thought, at the same time very aware of his own ruffled outfit, stubble on his chin and uncombed hair – not that any combe had ever made a difference to his hair, but still.

Without raising his eyes from the book, Draco said, his tone full of forced patience, “You might never have been told this before, Potter, but you should be careful not to upset people by excessive staring. As this behaviour is considered to be very rude indeed. A sign of bad manners, one might say.” He sighed as if Harry was causing him immense suffering.

For a moment Harry felt a rush of anger – before humour got the better of him and he laughed out loud. That toffee-nosed bastard with his posh talk sure sported a superiority complex! He shook his head and sipped at his tea still chuckling.

“Are you laughing at me, Potter?” Draco snapped his book close and looked at Harry, who was deeply satisfied by the startled expression on his rivals face. 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m doing, laughing at you,” Harry grinned, “I’m done with being upset by you, it’s not worth it. You are a nuisance. But actually you are also quite funny, unintentionally funny but still. That hilarious smug accent of yours! I refuse to be angry from now on. I’ll just laugh at you instead.”

Draco flushed once more and for a split second Harry expected him to explode with anger. But then a miracle of sorts happened: Draco’s mouth turned into a lopsided grin and he cleared his throat. “Whatever, Potter,” he said, turning his attention back to the book.

Harry took his tea to the sofa in front of the other bay window and looked out into the still dark grounds. The eastern sky showed a first hint of twilight. His tea was strong and tasted perfect. Nothing but the occasional soft sound of Draco Malfoy turning a page of his book was to be heard. Harry felt suddenly very calm and content as if the world was in total balance and everything exactly as it should be…

Some twenty minutes later Harry had finished his tea and dawn rose above the treetops of the forbidden forest. Harry sighed, turned to Draco and said, “Looks like it’s going to be a fine day. Well… see you later, I guess…”

He got up from the sofa to return to his own room. Before he closed the door of the common room he heard Draco mutter something. Harry could not quite understand what he said, but his tone – was that even possible? – was civil. Harry grinned to himself. He could outsmart that bastard with a clever mix of teasing and politeness, it seemed.

***

When at half past eight Harry took his place at the breakfast table, neither he nor Draco Malfoy mentioned their early morning encounter. Same as everybody else at the table, they were deeply engrossed in their new time tables, which they had just received.

“I’ve got two time-slots of ‘Physical Education’ – whatever that is,” said Ron stuffing a forkful of bacon and eggs in his mouth “– om Momda’ amd Th’sday aft’noon.”

“Well, apparently we all do,” Hermione said.

“But what the fuck is it?” Ron asked with a bewildered expression.

“It’s physical exercise, work-out, any kind of Muggle sports,” Cass explained stirring her porridge. “You never had anything like that before, right?”

“The only sport practised at Hogwarts so far was Quidditch,” Draco Malfoy said, “and I quite liked it that way.”

“Hear, hear,” Harry said, “I remember well enough the P.E. lessons at primary school to fully agree with Malfoy for once – what a waste of time that’ll be.”

“Good morning, students! May I have your attention please!” shouted the familiar voice of Headmistress McGonagall from the staff table. “Before I have the pleasure of introducing our new members of staff, I want to address the latest addition to the Hogwarts curriculum. As you all will be aware, each and every student is asked to exercise twice a week from now on.”

Shouts of surprise, protest and some clapping were to be heard, before the Headmistress continued, “The Board of Governors and the staff alike agreed on this addition. Why? Because the Healers of St. Mungo’s were abhorred by the lack of physical fitness of some patients – students, they had to treat after the battle of Hogwarts. The Healers repeated what our trusted Matron, Madam Pomfrey has been telling us for years: many students are not nearly fit enough when they leave school. We want to do better and we will. To set an example the teachers will join you in this reform. In fact, all the members of staff will be your instructors for a variety of sports.”

“I wonder, what Slughorn is going to instruct?” Draco murmured, “Ballet, maybe?” 

Blaise laughed out loud, Neville snorted and Harry grinned thinking, _Malfoy’s trying to be funny – that must be a good sign, right?_

But Cass shushed her cousin with a stern look, before everybody’s attention was drawn back to McGonagall again.

“After the introduction of our new teachers every member of staff will explain, what kind of physical exercise they intend to offer. In October you can try different classes, but must make up your mind until the end of the month. You can take two different courses or the same one twice a week, but you will practice what you have chosen until Christmas. After the holidays you can switch to different sports.”

Excited by these news many students started to talk, speculating what kind of activity they would be offered and exchanging what they knew about Muggle sports. Headmistress McGonagall let them continue for a bit, before she clapped her hands.

“Quiet, please!” she shouted. “I am well aware that this comes as a surprise, but I assure you, it will do you good – and us as well.” She sighed before she finally started to introduce the new members of staff.

Yes, Harry had guessed correctly, the elegant witch with the classical profile was Nektaria Tharros, new head of his house and Transfiguration teacher. While clapping their welcome, every Gryffindor around Harry agreed, she looked both beautiful and terrifying. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Josh Jordan were greeted with cheers, some girls even screeched when McGonagall addressed Josh.

“Finally,” the Headmistress continued, ”I have the pleasure to introduce our new Muggle Studies teacher, Gregory Laddley, who will also be the swimming instructor for those of you, who plan to exercise in our new indoor pool.”

Shouts again from the students’ tables interrupted the Headmistress before she went on, “Yes, we now have an indoor pool of truly Olympic measures. But only students who are at least 17 years old may use the pool any time – all of the younger students must take swimming lessons, before they have access to the pool area. Without exceptions!”

Gregory Laddley looked rather unremarkable, Harry thought. Middle aged guy, sandy hair, friendly face – and rather broad shoulders. _Come to think of it, isn’t that what swimmers are known for?_ The idea of building such shoulders seemed quite tempting to Harry.

“What does your dad say about that Laddley guy?” Harry asked Ron.

“Funny enough, I can’t remember dad ever mentioning him… strange, don’t you think?” Ron replied, “I always assumed dad knows everybody dealing with Muggle issues.”

“Well, never mind,” Hermione said, “as none of us intends to take Muggle studies, it hardly matters.”

“But I might sign up for swimming,” Harry said surprising his friends, “I’ve always liked to swim. And it’s supposed to be good for one’s posture.”

“You might want to reconsider, Potter. Ballet with Slughorn could do even greater wonders to your posture,” Draco Malfoy said smirking at Harry to everybody’s amusement. Harry pulled a face. Well, he was ready to bear some teasing as long as Malfoy kept his tone light.

When the teachers finally started to introduce their Physical Education classes, it turned out Professor Slughorn did not offer ballet, but Zen meditation instead. Only Luna seemed to be mildly interested in this. But when Professor Flitwick promised to teach Ballroom Dancing, Hermione immediately started to pester Ron into joining this course together – as did quite a number of girls with their boyfriends all around the hall. Harry watched Cass elbowing Draco with a grin.

Professor Sprout praised Pilates for ‘ _those who have to carry heavy pots and stuff’_ , which got Neville interested, but seemed rather dull to most of Harry’s friends – quite the contrary to Professor Tharros’ fierce description of an ancient martial arts technique she was practicing. Harry thought, her course sounded terrifying, but both Ginny and Cass were thrilled about it.

“Watch out, you two,” Ron grinned at them, ”or you might end up becoming as scary as Tharros herself.”

When Josh Jordan offered cross country running, many girls seemed deeply disappointed and Harry had to admit, it sounded just tedious.

“You have to take his class anyway, Harry,” Ron muttered in a low voice, “all the gay guys will be there – it’ll be your best chance of finding yourself a boyfriend!”

“Oh, shut it,” Harry growled looking across the table at Draco Malfoy, half expecting a vicious comment. But Malfoy seemed unimpressed by Ron’s remark. Instead he focused on spreading marmalade on his toast with uttermost precision.

 _Maybe Cass has already spilled the beans,_ Harry wondered, while saying, “I’ve made up my mind, I’ll take up swimming.”

Which made Draco raise his eyes at Harry and he looked rather displeased, even worried, maybe? _Why does it matter to him what I choose anyway?_ Harry wondered. He dismissed the thought quickly and concentrated on the further announcements.

After a number of more or less boring sports offered by minor staff members, Hagrid delighted many students by offering Highland Games and finally Headmistress McGonagall herself surprised everybody the most by announcing, she would coach interested students in the most famous Muggle sports of all – she intended to start a football team.

“Brilliant!” shouted Ron, Dean and Seamus in unison.

***

Being at Hogwarts for an extracurricular eighth year had many advantages, Harry’s cohort agreed. They not only enjoyed private bedrooms and a common room of their own, but were also delighted to learn that they were free to go to Hogsmeade any weekend they wanted to. As they had arrived on a Thursday, Harry and his friends decided to take the first chance for a visit.

“Alright, abandon me,” complained Ginny at the breakfast table on Sunday morning, “my very own brother, my flesh and blood… “, and she sighed in mock despair.

Ron grinned at her, “Well, I can’t help it, if our Headmistress thinks you’re too young for regular trips to the pub! We’ll drink a butterbeer in your honour if that helps!”

“Don’t be mean to your sister, Ron,” Hermione elbowed her boyfriend, which made Ron and Ginny laugh at her.

“Never interfere with quarrelling siblings,” Harry told Hermione, “that’s what I’ve learned. As an only child, you and I have no idea about the weird ways they express their love for each other. Even if it looks like Cain might kill Abel – he might just show his affection.”

“Who’re Cain and Abel? Should I know them?” Ron looked confused.

“No, you don’t,” Hermione padded his knee. “Just some ancient Muggle myth.”

“A proper Muggle education really has its benefits,” Cass giggled, “But what you say about siblings, Harry – that sounds a lot like Draco and me as well. Don’t you agree, Dray?”

Draco rolled his eyes but kept quiet. He never talked much at mealtimes, Harry observed. Come to think of it, he didn’t eat much either.

Cass turned to Ginny and said, “Forget about Hogsmeade, Ginny – I wouldn’t want to leave the castle anyway, I’m way too fond of being at Howarts! Maybe you could show me around after lunch? I’ve tried to explore the castle yesterday afternoon but found myself walking in circles – this place is really a maze!”

Ginny was delighted by this idea and suggested not just a tour of the castle but exploring the grounds as well. “We could even go to the Forbidden Forest, if you wanted to – it’s far less dangerous than it sounds!”

“You two walking into the Forbidden Forest?” Draco suddenly said and frowned, “I don’t like it, especially if you go there all alone…”

“For once I totally agree with you, Malfoy,” Harry added, “even if it pains me to admit it.”

“Seriously?” Cass crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave both Draco and Harry a stern look. “You think two adult witches are unfit for adventure without a wizard for company?”

“Yes!” said Draco and “No!” shouted Harry at the very same moment.

They looked at each other and Harry grinned, “What a relief to find out, we do not agree after all…” He turned to Cass and added, “I just think it’s risky for any two people, whether witches or wizards, makes no difference to me. But if you were a group of three – let’s say, if Hermione were to accompany you…”

“… I’d also be content,” Draco finished Harry’s sentence with a lopsided grin, “Sorry, Potter, can’t help it – I actually approve of what you say.”

“I can live with that, but don’t make a habit of it,” Harry said keeping his voice unimpressed. Annoyingly enough he felt a sudden flush rising up from his neck. Draco was the one supposed to flush all the time – fuck, was that contagious or something?

“Whatever,” Ginny said, “if you’re so concerned, you’ll just have to come with us instead of going to the village, Draco!”

“As you insist, Ginevra, I’ll accompany you,” Draco sighed, “I’m not allowed to leave the school area anyway. Probation beats eighth-year status, apparently.”

 _Oh well,_ Harry thought, _it’s probably for the best that Malfoy has to stay… I’m certainly not going to miss him. Without him it’ll be just the usual gang again, like in the old days._

***

But even without Draco Malfoy his group of friends was different nowadays, Harry had to concede. Six eighth-years amiably walked to the village together – Harry, Ron and Hermione, Dean, Seamus and Neville – but as soon as they arrived at Hogsmeade they split up. First Hermione declared, she wanted to go to Tomes and Scrolls – and Ron immediately agreed to accompany her.

“You don’t have to come with us,” he told Harry, “it’ll be boring anyway… maybe we could meet again at the Three Broomsticks afterwards? At four o’clock?”

Surprisingly enough Hermione did not protest about Ron’s harsh verdict on the book-shop. In fact she looked a bit embarrassed and did not invite Harry to join them either.

“Of course,” Harry said and realized with a pang, that his best friends probably wanted to spend some couple-time without him.

Just moments later, Dean declared he wanted to fetch some sweets at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, sweets by the odd name 'Teeth Twitchies'.

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Luna's favourite, I guess?"

Dean looked only a little bit embarrassed when he nodded, which made Harry wonder, if maybe there was another couple in the making?

Apparently Harry was not the only one following this line of thought, as Neville said matter-of-factly, “Which leaves us lonesome bachelors.”

Seamus pulled a face. Harry could relate to his former room-mate’s feelings very much.

The three of them strolled around the village without much interest in window shopping and when it started to rain, they decided to have a drink at the Hog's Head Inn. They entered the shabby pub and it was as gloomy inside as Harry remembered it to be.

When his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he suggested, “How about we grab that table over there?” He pointed at a window, which was so greasy it made hardly any difference to the general murkiness of the inn. “I’ll get us three butterbeers, ok?”

His friends sat down and Harry approached the bar, which was occupied by some rather dubious customers. He looked around again. The only familiar face in the room belonged to Gregory Laddley, Hogwarts’ new Muggle Studies teacher and Harry’s future swimming instructor, who sat all by himself at a small table brooding over his drink.

Harry had hoped to talk to Aberforth, but the pub’s owner was nowhere to be seen. Harry had last seen Albus Dumbledore’s brother during the Battle of Hogwarts. As far as he knew, the pub had been violated and raided by Death Eaters that night and he wanted to ask Aberforth about it. How was he doing anyway? Harry decided to ask for him.

Waiting in line for placing his order, he had a closer look at the bartender – a tall man with long jet-black hair, wearing dark glasses. Harry was amazed the guy could see enough for topping up drinks. Aberforth really seemed to have a knack for hiring staff that made his shady customers look quite respectable in comparison.

“Three butterbeers, please,” Harry said when it was his call, “and may I ask you – where’s your boss? Aberforth Dumbledore? I’d hoped to see him.”

The bartender turned away to draw drinks and grumbled in a thick Scottish accent, “You may ask, laddie, but I sure won’t answer. T’is none of your business.”

Harry was taken aback. “Look – I didn’t want to offend you! Aberforth is a friend of mine, I just wanted to make sure he’s alright, ok?”

“Alright he is,” was the answer. Pale hands with freakishly long fingers planted three glasses in front of Harry with so much force the butterbeers spilled over. “Enough said.”

Harry frowned and paid for his order. He even tipped the guy, who took the money with one final grunt, which might have been ‘ _Thanks’_ or an insult – Harry had no chance of telling the difference. He walked back to his friends, careful not to spill more of their drinks.

“One of you has to fetch the next round,” Harry told Neville and Seamus, nodding towards the bar, “that guy is scary.”

They chuckled and just when they clinked glasses, the backdoor opened and Aberforth Dumbledore entered the room, accompanied by Hagrid. Harry grinned and waved at them.

Hagrid was delighted to see his favourite student and crossed the room with a few giant steps, “Harry! Good to see you – and you too, Neville and Seamus! But… where’s Ron and Hermione?” he looked around and seemed quite confused, as if he could not believe, that Harry was without his best friends.

“They’re at the bookshop,” Harry explained, “probably wanted some time on their own – you know, since they’re together, they don’t need me around all the time, naturally.” He tried to sound more relaxed about it than he actually felt.

“But that’s not right,” Hagrid furrowed his brow, “they shouldn’t abandon you!”

Harry laughed at Hagrid, “They’re not abandoning me, Hagrid, really, don’t worry!” Hagrid’s reaction was actually quite helpful, it made Harry realise how ridiculous it was to feel even slightly offended by their need to be alone once in a while. He would certainly want to be alone with his lover – if he ever was lucky enough to find one.

“How’s Abe?” Neville asked Hagrid, looking at the inn’s owner who had walked to Laddley’s table, “and what’s he got to discuss with our new Muggle Studies teacher?”

“Greg’s mum was a close friend of Abe’s, that’s what he told me,” Hagrid said, “and Abe’s doing well enough, I should think, the inn’s got lots of customers lately. Many of the regulars are better off now, after Voldemort’s gone… people like meself, with a bit of an awkward parentage… didn’t dare to be seen in public before and now they can go to the pub again whenever they like!”

“Yeah, I can see what you mean,” Seamus nodded towards the bar, “there are some pretty strange people around at this place. Harry was even scared off by the barkeeper.”

Aberforth stepped up to their table and slapped Harry’s back. “What’s this about Harry being scared? Don’t pull my leg, Seamus! Tadhg might seem a bit rude but he sure knows how to deal with my regular customers!” he said with a nod towards the bartender. “Good to have you back at Hogwarts! I hear you might come to the village more often this year? Well, you know where to find me – the Hog’s Head will always be happy to serve you!”

Harry was glad to see Aberforth far more relaxed than before the war, he looked even healthier. 

“Good to see you too, Mr Dumbledore! And of course you’re right about Seamus, he’s just dodging to buy the next round,” Harry grinned and predictably enough his friend rose to fetch them drinks. Their laughter drew the attention of other customers and Harry realized that Professor Laddley was watching them too.

“Hagrid says you know our new Muggle Studies teacher?” Harry asked Aberforth. “We were curious about him, ‘cause Arthur Weasley never mentioned his name and Arthur’s supposed to know everybody involved in Muggle Studies.”

“Well, I don’t know much about Greg’s professional life,” Aberforth looked strangely touched, “went to school with his Mum and have been friends with her until she passed away last spring… he’s a good guy, Greg… his life hasn’t been easy for a long time...”

Harry wondered what sort of problems Gregory Laddley might have, apart from the recent loss of his mother? Must be quite serious, if Aberforth Dumbledore looked concerned, a man who had come across plenty of troubles during his own life-time.

Seamus came back with more butterbeer and said, “That bartender has the most ridiculous fake of a Scottish accent I’ve ever heard. Whom is he trying to fool?”

Aberforth laughed. “I know… I didn’t have the heart to tell him, but apart from that he’s alright.”

After a moment of silence Aberforth addressed Hagrid, “Well, I think we better get back to the task at hand, shall we?”

“Oh – right!” Hagrid shouted, “Poor Snow White! I almost forgot about her! She’s having her baby and I’m the midwife!” he explained before he headed for the back door.

Harry, Seamus and Neville gawped at his back.

Aberforth laughed and said, “Don’t worry – Snow White is one of my goats.” And with a final nod he followed Hagrid.


	9. The Empty Frame

Within the course of just one week Harry fell into the pleasant routine of school-life. The recent changes at Hogwarts did not alter his feeling of being totally at home – and he was immensely happy about it. So much had passed since his last regular weeks at school, but thank goodness many things were still the same: Interesting if sometimes tedious lessons, the dread of home-work, Hermione’s and Ron’s double act of affection and bickering, not to forget three delicious meals a day and the wonderful smell of fresh air whenever he went outdoors. He especially enjoyed visiting Otto at the owlery in the evenings and taking him for a flight. His new pet had easily settled in the new environment and seemed to relish the company of other birds.

Having Josh for a teacher was far less distressing than Harry had feared. Any awkwardness was gone after the first lesson, Harry’s fascination for D.A.D.A. got the better of him. Josh being an excellent teacher helped too. During each lecture he shared stories from his work as an Auror and he reserved plenty of time for practice as well. Soon enough everybody agreed on Josh being their best D.A.D.A. teacher since Lupin – well, everybody except Draco Malfoy, who seemed to somehow resent Josh. Cass blamed Josh being Draco’s probation officer for the dislike, which sounded reasonable enough.

Josh behaved totally relaxed around Harry and did not favour him at all during lessons. But occasionally after class, while everybody packed up their stuff and left, Josh chatted with Harry for a bit. They talked about Auror training, Teddy Tonks or Josh’s cousin Lee who had just started to work for the Daily Prophet.

It was actually nice to be on friendly terms with Josh – not even slightly embarrassing. When Ron and Hermione teased Harry about it, he just grinned. But he could not help noticing, that some of the other students seemed irritated about it. Especially Draco Malfoy.

Professor Tharros was a living breathing example for the fact, that occasionally first impressions could be as right as rain. She was brilliant, no doubt about that, but very strict and expecting a lot from her students. The loads of homework she was handing them freely made everybody moan and wish for having McGonagall back – until Hermione had to remind them, that Headmistress McGonagall had never been shy on dumping them in home-work either. Still, Harry missed McGonagall. She had not only been his teacher and head of house, but also an important ally in his fight against Voldemort. He trusted her opinion as much as he admired her character.

Some of the recent changes at school Harry actually considered being improvements. Having his own room at the Guest House was awesome of course, much better than the sleeping arrangements of Gryffindor Tower. And each time he dove into that pool to swim laps, he realized just how much he loved swimming. Professor Laddley was a good instructor too, very kind with the beginners, while rather tough on the advanced swimmers. After the second lesson he asked Harry and Blaise Zabini to stay behind for a moment and surprised them by handing out training sheets.

“You two, you’ve got potential! But improving your technique is not enough, you need to build some muscle too. Check out the gym and get wet as often as you can,” Laddley nodded towards the pool. “If you help me teaching the beginners, I’ll give you extra lessons in the evenings – what’ you think?”

Both Harry and Blaise seized this chance and became training partners. Apart from Draco Malfoy, Zabini was the only eighth-year Slytherin and Harry found the guy to be much improved since sixth-year. When he mentioned as much, Blaise grinned and said, “Yeah, I guess we’ve all grown up a bit… don’t you think, you’ve changed as well?”

Harry certainly could not contradict this.

Another benefit of having Blaise around was that he really knew how to handle Draco Malfoy. Whereas Cass was easy going and fitted in with Harry’s group of friends as if she had always been there, Draco was moody. Sometimes he behaved more relaxed than Harry had ever seen him, then again he was quite tense and cagey. Blaise had a way of dealing with Draco that was interesting to watch. In fact, Blaise didn’t even treat Draco differently from everybody else, he was just his usual self – confident, loud and often a bit too much – but that seemed to do the trick.

Harry found out, if he kept calm and didn’t allow himself to be irritated by Draco’s tension, the guy relaxed. Maybe Draco’s mood depended too much on others?

Cass appeared to become best friends with Ginny in no time, but still kept close to her cousin. In fact, the three of them seemed to get along just fine. The first time Harry watched Ginny and Draco laughing together, he was deeply irritated, but tried to accept it for Cass’ sake. Astonishing enough Ron didn’t object. Maybe he tolerated the new addition to their gang because Hermione obviously rejoiced in the intellectual battle of words with Cass and Draco. All in all having Draco Malfoy around every day didn’t feel half as bad as expected. In fact it was quite… interesting.

***

At Friday lunch after their first full week at school Blaise leaned over to Harry and said, “Just two more lessons and we’re done – how about a quick workout before dinner, Harry?”

“Sorry, I can’t,” said Harry, “McGonagall has asked to see me at four p.m. in her office and I have no idea how long that’ll take… what about after dinner?” He was actually quite pleased she had requested to see him. _Maybe she just wants to chat a bit,_ Harry hoped.

Blaise drew a breath, “It’s Friday night, Harry, and as much as I enjoy your company, my plans for tonight include lots of butterbeer and the adoring eyes of a pneumatic blonde by the misleading name of Chastity,” he nodded towards the sixth-years’ table, where a very pretty, voluptuous girl grinned widely at him.

Draco Malfoy just snorted, but Cass said, “You are such a macho, Blaise, I hope you’ll fall hard for that girl, before she dumps you.”

“Ouch,” said Blaise, “and you’re such a Cassandra, one might forget your full name is Cassiopeia. But, Harry, maybe next week we could do morning workouts? Before breakfast, how about that?”

Harry shifted uneasily in his seat. He felt Draco Malfoys eyes on him when he said, “Nah, I don’t think so… maybe some other time.”

Without ever mentioning it, not to each other and certainly not to anybody else, Harry and Draco Malfoy had both made a habit of spending an early morning hour at the common room before breakfast – together.

 _Strictly speaking, we don’t spend time together,_ Harry thought, _as we hardly ever talk._

But still Harry realized he didn’t want to miss that quiet hour and neither did Draco, so it seemed. Draco, who read every morning in a book, clad in black leather – couldn’t still be the same book, Harry mused. Draco, who always appeared fully dressed and looking well-groomed. And who had totally surprised Harry last Sunday morning, when Harry had found a perfect mug of Assam waiting for him, with some milk and no sugar, just as he liked his tea.

When he had stuttered his confused question, whether that mug was his to take, Malfoy had responded with a seemingly bored expression, “I am certainly not expecting anybody else, Potter, are you?”

And when Harry had thanked him awkwardly, Draco continued with a dismissive gesture, “Just sit down and spare me your pottering around in the kitchen…”

And from that day on, Harry found his tea at the ready when he stepped into the common room before dawn. No, he was not going to switch that quiet hour for morning work-outs. Which didn’t mean that he suddenly liked Draco Malfoy. Because he did not. At all.

“What does McGonagall want, Harry?” Hermione looked concerned, “You can’t be in trouble? I mean, not this year again?”

“Oh, don’t you underestimate Harry’s ability of getting himself in trouble, you should know better by now, ‘Mione,” Ron teased, then turned to Harry, “Maybe she’s just mad at you, for not signing up with her football class. Which is totally your loss, by the way… football’s brilliant…”

“Really, is it? You’ve never mentioned it – for at least five minutes!” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Leave him alone. As long as he’s still able to waltz with me once a week, he can sprain his ankles all he likes,” Hermione patted Ron’s knee.

“Well, I don’t think I’m in trouble,” said Harry, “I’m just curious, what the Headmistress has to say. And as you two,” Harry nodded towards Hermione and Ron, “seem very eager to stay out of harm’s way this year, I’ll make sure I find other people to tell what’s going on, in case McGonagall has some exciting news.” Harry was immensely pleased by the shock on the faces of his two best friends and long-time confidents.

“Don’t you dare, Harry,” Ron said, “you are allowed to find yourself a boyfriend but certainly no other best pal, understood?!”

Oddly reassuring as this was to hear, Harry glanced nervously at Draco, waiting for a snort, a vicious remark, any comment at all. Nothing. Draco’s cheeks seemed a bit pink and he chewed at his bottom lip – but kept quiet. 

***

At four o’clock precisely Harry stood at the foot of the spinning staircase to the Headmistress’ office. He realized with a start the stone gargoyles where gone. What kind of protective arrangements had McGonagall taken instead? The idea, she might have dropped these safety precautions without replacement, was a bit distressing.

When he set his foot on the first step, he was immediately assured he need not worry, as the stone turned completely wobbly and no longer supported his weight. It felt like trying to climb stairs made of jelly. Mere seconds later a cat-shaped Patronus darted down the stairs, gave Harry a significant look and ran upstairs again. Harry assumed, he was meant to follow and tried his footing on the steps once more – yes, now he was able to climb alright.

When he reached the office, the Patronus was gone and Headmistress McGonagall was sitting at her desk. She received Harry’s greeting with a stern expression and for a moment Harry was afraid, he might indeed be in trouble without knowing why.

“Thank you, Mr Potter, for coming. Please sit down,” her tension seemed to fade a bit – and so did Harry’s. 

“Before I’ll explain, why I wanted to see you, let me ask: How are you, Harry? How is your health? And what do you think of the new regime at our school, do you like it?”

Harry was immensely relieved and happy to be called by his first name. _Yes,_ he thought, _she misses me a bit._ He smiled brightly and gave her a full report of his first days at school. The Headmistress seemed very pleased about his praise for the Guest House, the indoor pool and even blushed a little, when Harry asserted that Transfigurations lessons where not quite the same without her. When he finally stopped talking, she smiled at him with so much kindness that for a split second Harry considered the possibility of talking to a Polyjuiced imposter instead of the real Minerva McGonagall. He cleared his voice in embarrassment and turned to look at some of the familiar portraits instead.

The former Headmasters and Headmistresses were wide awake, very attentive indeed. Some of them even looked like being on high alert, as if they were expecting something horrible to happen.

Phineas Nigellus Black greeted Harry with a strangled voice, “Good of you to come, Mr Potter, most grateful we are.”

At McGonagall’s left side Harry saw another well-known face that still gave him a start: Severus Snape’s portrait stared at him from its black metal frame with a stern expression, Harry found oddly familiar from many a Potions lesson.

But the one portrait Harry was most eager to look at was empty. The tall gilt frame right behind McGonagall’s chair showed nothing but a rather dull backdrop of an empty chair and an odd curtain, whereas Albus Dumbledore’s wise face was not to be seen. Harry was rather disappointed.

“Yes, he’s missing. And that is exactly what I wanted to talk about, Harry,” said McGonagall with much concern.

“What do you mean, he’s missing?” Harry was confused, “He’ll just be visiting some other painting in the castle, don’t you think?”

“No, I assure you, Harry, Albus Dumbledore’s Imagic is not making social calls to other paintings. We are quite certain about that.” All the former headmasters and headmistresses nodded looking grave. When McGonagall realized Harry’s confusion she explained, ”The image of a real person in a magic portrait is called an Imagic–“

“I know,” Harry interrupted.

“ – and we have checked all the paintings in the castle without result.” 

“But he must! Where else could he be?” Harry asked.

“That’s what we want to find out, Harry,” McGonagall said, “and as some of my predecessors insisted you might be able to help, I finally agreed to draw you into this mess, crime or mystery – whatever it is.” She sighed. “Still I am very reluctant to keep you from your studies, as I feel you more than deserve a final school year without being bothered once again.”

“No worries, Profess… sorry, Headmistress,” Harry said, “of course I want to help – even though I have no idea how. Since when is Dumbledore – I mean, his Imagic missing? What have you done so far? Just tell me everything, will you?”

To Harry’s utter amazement, McGonagall turned to Snape’s portrait and said, ”Severus, as you’ve been the one most insistent to consult with Harry, you might as well start the roundup about what has happened.”

 _Severus Snape suggested that I might be able to help?_ Harry felt his world turn upside down. Snape’s gaze was unreadable and when he started to talk, his voice sounded as nasal and bored as ever.

“Good afternoon, Mr Potter. First of all, I want to explain, why I suggested asking for your help. It is no secret that Headmaster Dumbledore thought the world of you and used to spend some time with you alone, especially during the last year of his life,” Snape’s painting cleared his voice. “In the course of these occasions he might have shared something with you that could help us to solve this… puzzle. Maybe something personal about his past. Maybe something that just slipped from his tongue unintentionally. Maybe something that had seemed totally unimportant at that time.”

Professor McGonagall looked doubtful and Harry shared her scepticism. Only after Dumbledore’s death Harry had realized, how very little he knew about his mentor.

Snape continued, “I know it might seem unlikely and you will most probably not be aware of any such memory, but maybe if you give it some thought and we are lucky, something comes to your mind… at any rate, here’s what we know. The day of my death–“ he cleared his voice, “– the day of the Battle of Hogwarts, Headmaster Dumbledore’s portrait was here in this room with all the other portraits, except mine of course.”

“Yeah, I know, we were here right after the battle, me, Ron and Hermione. I wanted to talk to Dumbledore – to his Imagic I mean, wanted to ask for his opinion,” said Harry.

Minerva McGonagall continued, “So you will remember that this office was damaged too – although not as badly as other parts of the castle of course. But still there were repairs to be made. After students had been sent home safely, the remaining staff made an inventory of the demolition and we started planning. We decided to store all of the valuables at the Ministry archives for the time of the reconstruction. Among these items were the magic paintings including the Headmasters’ and Headmistresses’ portraits – the Imagics had agreed unanimously with this arrangement. Perhaps Headmaster Black would like to continue…” McGonagall turned towards the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black.

“With pleasure, Headmistress, with uttermost pleasure,” Phineas Nigellus puffed up and said, ”we were all very sorry to leave, of course, but it seemed the sensible thing to do. Albus was all for it, even convinced those who were rather reluctant to go. In the end everyone agreed, as Minerva said, and we were stored nicely enough. Naturally it was rather dull, you wouldn’t expect anything else from an archive, would you?

“I must admit, I slept during most of the summer… as did some of the others. But Albus was always out and about! He said he intended to make the most of this time by taking a proper look at the archives. He regretted missing out on this during his lifetime. So he visited other paintings, talked to ancient creatures and what not, didn’t he?” Phineas Nigellus looked around at the other portraits, who nodded gravely to confirm his story.

“Well, finally August was closing in and we were told to get ready for the journey homewards. Social calling stopped, everyone settled in their own frame nicely. Albus was with us, or so we thought. I must say, I was rather surprised he was sleeping soundly for the last few days at the archives and during all of the train trip – we used the Hogwarts Express, came together with the actual first-years right at the beginning of September.”

“I had remained at Hogwarts, because my portrait was still a draft, Professor Flitwick had not managed to finish before my death,” Severus Snape’s portrait continued, ”when the other portraits returned, it was plain as a pikestaff to me that Albus Dumbledore’s portrait was a fake. The seemingly sleeping Dumbledore was no Imagic, but just… just paint. So I alerted the Headmistress.” Snape gave Minerva McGonagall a courteous nod.

“And right you were, of course. I immediately asked for Professor Flitwick’s opinion, who is a true expert in Magical Arts. As soon as he took a closer look, he confirmed Headmaster Snapes suspicion and removed a fake painting, that had been put into the frame in front of the real magic portrait,” McGonagall pointed her wand at the empty backdrop in the gilt frame. “That’s when we realized, the Imagic of Albus Dumbledore was gone.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief, “So you think somebody tampered with the portrait while it was stored at the archives? In that case he must still be there, in any of the other paintings…”

“Which he isn’t, we have checked,” Phineas Nigellus fell in, ”seven of us have spent the best part of September at the archives and we have been running around like madmen among hundreds of thousands of paintings…”

“And madwomen!” chimed in two former Headmistresses who had obviously been part of the rescue mission.

“Let’s not exaggerate,” Severus Snape corrected, ”at the first of September 4047 magical paintings were stored at the Ministry archives and with good planning and joint efforts we have managed to check them all – he’s not there. An Imagic can only visit other magic paintings at the same vicinity or…”

“… any other magic portrait of himself!” Harry finished the sentence.

“And that’s the point, Harry, where you might be able to help,” Minerva McGonagall said, “because as far as we know, Albus Dumbledore has refused to sit for any other portrait apart from this one – which is gone.”

“He absolutely hated being painted,” Phineas Nigellus said, “that’s why he had postponed it for years. Only when he knew about his imminent death, two years ago, he finally submitted. Sitting for the painting he moaned and complained like a lunatic. I used to tease him about it, saying _‘Albus, listening to you one might think getting painted is worse than dying!’_ and he would say _‘Quite rightly so, Phineas, that’s exactly how I feel.’_ Of course I had no idea he was in fact deadly wounded already...”

“Who did it? I mean who’s the artist?” Harry asked.

“Professor Flitwick himself, of course,” McGonagall said, ”as I mentioned, he is quite an expert in Magical Arts, which are in fact part of Highly Advanced Charms. It’s tradition that the Master of Charms does the portrait of the residing Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts. Albus just delayed this task until the very last moment.”

“So the question remains, Mr Potter,” Snape’s portrait continued, “has Albus Dumbledore ever mentioned any other portrait of himself to you?”

Harry frowned, “No, I don’t think so… but I will give it some thought… it would have to be a painting? Not just any picture? I mean, there’s loads of pictures, right? Issues of the Prophet, copies of that dreadful biography by Rita Skeeter, not to mention chocolate-frog cards…”

“No, they would not do, Harry,” Minerva McGonagall shook her head. ”Pictures taken by a magical camera have only a hint of charms in them. Such pictures might move a bit, but people in them will never talk or be able to leave the picture. It’ll take the Highly Advanced Charms of true Magical Arts to create an Imagic, who will contain some sort of spirit of the real person. Only Imagics are able to move freely between their portraits or to visit other magical paintings within the same building.”

“Right. So he’s gone and nobody knows why or where to… but who would do such a thing? What for?” Harry felt quite confused, “Can’t the Ministry do anything about it? Surely the Auror Department must investigate, as he was last seen at the Ministry’s archives!”

“Well, we have decided to keep the whole affair secret for the time being – because Albus Dumbledore has left us a message. Take a closer look at the seemingly empty backdrop, Harry. What do you see?” asked McGonagall.

“I see a chair in front of a curtain, a curtain made of a heavy fabric with a strange pattern… wait a minute, are these ancient runes?” Harry asked.

“Exactly, it’s a pattern of runes. On request from Professor Dumbledore – the real wizard, not the Imagic – Professor Flitwick painted these runes onto the curtain. Filius had no idea why, he just did what Dumbledore asked him to. When he examined the painting after the Imagic was gone, he found the pattern changed. It seems that Dumbledore’s Imagic was able to switch the position of the runes, so he could leave a message on the curtain before he disappeared.”

“What does it say?” Harry asked excitedly.

“ _Be on guard! There is a traitor teaching at Hogwarts!”_ McGonagall said with a pained face, “and as two of our new teachers happen to be Aurors, we do not want the Auror Department involved until we are sure, we can trust them.”

***

“McGonagall thinks Kingsley is a traitor? Has she lost her marbles?” Ron said with a bewildered expression and Hermione just gawped at Harry.

They had retreated to Harry’s bedroom. Hermione and Ron were sitting on the sofa and Harry stretched out on the carpet. His friends had pestered Harry during dinner about his visit to the Headmistress’ office, but Harry had kept quiet. Instead he asked Ron and Hermione to see him at his room after dinner. His reluctance to talk in front of others had intrigued his friends, but Ron and Hermione had certainly not expected, what Harry had told them now.

“She does not really suspect Kingsley,” Harry said, “at least, that’s what she said, because my reaction was pretty much the same as yours. It’s mostly a precaution. But still McGonagall says, the only teachers she trusts absolutely are Flitwick, Sprout and Hagrid. And I am inclined to agree with her. Flitwick was the one who unmasked the fraud and found the hidden message – that would make no sense, if it was him. And Sprout seems far too kind-hearted and honest for anything like that. McGonagall actually called Flitwick and Sprout her very own ‘Granger-and-Weasley-team’.” Harry grinned at his two best friends and they looked rather pleased.

“She had no objection that I tell you, by the way. She knows, we work best as a team. And Hagrid… well, no one in his right mind would think Hagrid is involved. But she does not want to rule out any one of the other teachers yet. Snape’s Imagic totally agrees with her, probably because he used to be a double agent himself.”

Ron shook his head, “I’m still not getting it. Why would anybody do such a thing?”

“Apparently the portrait collection of former Headmasters and Headmistresses is part of Hogwarts security system. It works as a kind of warning device and as long as the Imagic of the most famous and brilliant Headmaster is missing, the protection is depleted,” Harry explained.

“Wow, that’s fascinating,” Hermione said, “I’ve never read anything about it in ‘Hogwarts. A History.’ It really must be top secret.”

“Many of the remaining Imagics are quite frightened,” Harry went on, “they are afraid to get abducted as well. Some have stopped visiting other paintings at all, others only dare to walk around in pairs.”

“But what can we do?” Hermione asked.

“McGonagall wants us to keep our eyes open, watch the teachers and report anything dubious. Meanwhile she’ll make some enquiries at the Ministry. She’ll try to find out who had access to the Ministry archives in August – apparently the head of the archives is an old friend of hers and she hopes to obtain the visitor records without having to disclose what’s going on. The idea is to pretend we don’t know yet, that Dumbledore’s Imagic is missing in order to lull the perpetrator. She went to London right after talking to me.”

“When will you see her again?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know… until then Flitwick steps in as deputy headmaster, so he’s our contact.”

“Ok, so let’s see… what have we got?” Ron rubbed his hands in anticipation, ”I think we should concentrate on the new teachers – hey, we can rule out any teacher, Dumbledore has met while still alive, ‘cause surely he would have given us their name, if he had known them! Harry, you said, the message just reads _‘a traitor teaches at Hogwarts’_ – that means Dumbledore didn’t know their name!”

“Wow, that’s brilliant, Ron!” Harry said, “… but wait a minute… all of the new teachers have been students during Dumbledore’s lifetime, don’t you think? He’s been at the school for ages. Of course he knew Josh and Kingsley. Both Laddley and Tharros have mentioned, they too were students at Hogwarts. So Dumbledore must have met all of them. But still he didn’t give us a name…”

“I’m afraid the explanation is simple – if disappointing,” Hermione said, “it is rather difficult to transcribe names to ancient runes. Runes work like hieroglyphs, not like our letters. So if you want to write a name, you need to be very careful to get it right. I assume, Dumbledore just didn’t have the right runes available on the curtain. As he could only use what was already there, he wanted to avoid giving us a wrong lead.”

“Yeah, that makes sense – he narrowed it down as much as he could and trusted, we would work out the rest,” Harry said, “that’s just like the real Dumbledore used to behave. At least we know it’s one of the teachers, not just any member of staff… or a student.”

“Pity, Malfoy’s in the clear, he’d make such a good suspect,” Ron grinned, “though I have to say, he’s mostly okay these days, sometimes even entertaining in his deadpan way.”

“Yes… he is actually quite polite to me, which is a bit strange,” Hermione said, “not only has he stopped calling me Mudblood – “

“He better not dare,” Ron growled.

“ – but it’s more than that,” Hermione went on, “remember today’s D.A.D.A. lesson? He was really considerate. Two years ago he would have been delighted to wear me down in front of the class.”

Both Ron and Harry knew exactly what Hermione meant. They had practiced defence spells once again and Josh always made them change partners. When it was Hermione’s turn to defend herself against Draco, he had been very careful and obviously not fighting full force.

“Maybe he’s just trying to impress his probation officer,” Ron said.

“Maybe he is… but it didn’t feel like that,” Hermione said, ”plus lately he started to call me by my first name, haven’t you noticed?”

“Yeah – and I’m not sure I like it,” Ron said with a frown, “if he starts chatting you up, I’ll punch him.”

“Don’t be daft, he’s not flirting with me,” said Hermione beaming at Ron, which gave Harry the impression she rather enjoyed Ron’s display of jealousy.

“Can we please stop talking about Malfoy?” Harry sighed, “Don’t you think we have more pressing issues to deal with?”

“That’s a bit rich coming from you, pal,” Ron said with raised eyebrows, “as _you’ve_ been the one obsessed with that guy for years!”

“Obsessed? Excuse me?” Harry protested, “he’s… he’s been a total pain in the ass since we met and I sure never asked for that!”

Hermione watched their exchange with narrowed eyes and Harry didn’t like her expression one bit.

He cleared his voice and said, “Can we just talk about the missing Imagic instead? Please?”

“Fine,” Hermione said, “I agree with Ron, we should concentrate on the new teachers, get to know them better, find out about their background. How about each of us focuses on one of them? I volunteer to endear myself to Tharros, as both of you seem to be frightened of her.”

“No comment on that,” Harry said, “but thank you. I’ll concentrate on Laddley. As none of us takes Muggle studies, swimming lessons are our best chance.”

“Which leaves me with Josh,” Ron said, “fair enough. I think I’ll go for chatting about old times, tell him about Charlie and such.”

“Maybe he’ll confess, if you tell him about your crush?” Hermione said with a grin.


	10. A Dashing Dancer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for all the Dancing Queens out there, quarantine-waltzing in the living room.

“What’s that?” Harry was startled when he entered the common room early next morning.

“Good morning to you too, Potter,” Draco sighed and sounded very much like a parent, teaching his kid manners without result, “it’s a painting. A rather nice one, actually.”

It was a painting indeed. On the wall next to the upright piano there was a large oil-painting with a beautiful forest scene on display, a sunlit clearing surrounded by tall trees in autumn colours.

“I know it’s a painting, I’m just surprised – where did it come from?”

“Flitwick hung it up yesterday evening,” Draco said.

“The question is why… and why now…” Harry wondered.

“Because it’s nice? That’s why people usually put paintings on their walls. If you think Flitwick has some secret agenda, you had better been here last night after dinner instead of secretly conspiring with your side-kicks… you could have asked him.” Draco said.

Instead of shooting back Harry went for the Zabini-approach once more. “Sorry you’ve missed me so much,” he smirked and was rewarded with Draco’s usual blush.

Harry stepped closer to the painting. At the moment no Imagic was to be seen in the forest, just falling leaves slowly gliding through the air. But he was well aware from now on any Imagic of the castle had access to their common room around the clock. If someone popped by in the early morning, they would find himself and Draco having their morning tea – well, together. This possibility made Harry slightly uneasy. Apart from that Harry was sure, Flitwick must have had a specific reason for putting the painting there, probably something to do with the missing Imagic.

Draco seemed to be intrigued by Harry’s fascination for the painting. He rose from his sofa, picked up both of their mugs and stepped next to Harry handing him his tea. ”Pity, you don’t like it – I think it’s beautiful… very calming to look at.”

Just as Harry considered how to explain his doubts without giving away confidential information, a well-known figure appeared between the trees. Now it was Draco’s turn to be startled. Harry had more or less expected someone to turn up.

“Good morning, Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy,” Severus Snape’s Imagic said, looking from Harry to Draco with raised eyebrows as they returned his greetings. He seemed to absorb their appearances, Draco fully dressed and Harry in his usual unkempt way still wearing sweat-pants. “Up already on a Saturday? I never would have guessed that students are able to rise at such an early hour. And I must say I’m mildly surprised the two of you amiably enjoy early morning tea together.”

Harry and Draco started to talk simultaneously.

Harry protested, “We are _not_ having tea together, we just happen to…” his voice trailed off while Draco said, “So what if we are? Got a problem with it, Headmaster? In that case your successor shouldn’t have put students from different houses in one dormitory.”

Snape’s eyebrows rose even higher, ”Not at all Mr Malfoy, quite the contrary. Truth being told I’ve had the feeling for some time now, the two of you have very much in common and might be able to get along quite well, if you were ever ready to overcome those ridiculous house prejudices.”

“What?” Harry shouted, “That’s a bit rich coming from you! If I remember correctly, you of all people were quite into those ‘ _ridiculous house prejudices’_!”

“Quite right you are, Mr Potter,” the Imagic sighed, “but death – I must say – has a tendency to unmask absurdities, as you will find out for yourself one day… may that day be far from now. Anyway, I’m not here to discuss your friendship – “ Snape lifted his hands in defence when Harry started to protest, “I wanted to have a word with Mr Potter. As soon as our messenger,” he pointed to a red squirrel that jumped eagerly from oak to elm, “has alerted me – as was her duty – that you, Mr Potter, were up already, I dropped by. I expected you to be alone.”

“Do you want me to leave, Headmaster?” Draco asked with a stony face.

“Yes, Mr Malfoy, I’m afraid I must ask you to. But be assured I would be very pleased to talk to you some other time.” The Imagic bowed slightly as Draco did the same, collected his book and opened the door. Before he left the room, he turned back to look at Harry, who had no idea how to read that final glance. 

Snape’s Imagic cleared his voice before he said, “Mr Potter, I’m here to explain the purpose of the latest addition to this common room.”

“Let me guess – ’course you want to spy on us?” Harry said with distaste.

“Always to expect the worst, Mr Potter, is a tremendous waste of energy,” Snape said, “you forget I’m not the one who hung up this painting. In fact, I speak on behalf of all the other Imagics, the current Headmistress and Professor Flitwick as well. We wanted to have a direct means of communication with you and your fellow investigators.”

“Right,” said Harry feeling a bit stupid.

“You will always find someone in the painting ready to deliver a message – like this red squirrel by the name of Polly – if you have news to report or need support. Be assured none of us former Headmasters and Headmistresses is inclined to pop up without being asked, except in case of urgency or imminent danger. This is actually quite a sacrifice for some of us. The Wizard’s Wood – that’s the name of the painting – happens to be a favourite place of recreation for many Imagics.”

Which made Harry feel even more stupid. “Oh, I see… well, thank you and – listen, I apologise for what I said before,” he said, “the painting is lovely, I’m sorry you have to abstain from it for a while.”

“Don’t worry, we have other places to go… the Wizard’s Wood is just one of four large landscapes that were painted by a famous Charm’s master at the end of the nineteenth century. We still can go for a stroll at the Magic Mountain, the Bellevue Beach and the Merry Meadow. All four of them belong to the Headmistress’ living room interior, Professor McGonagall can still admire three of them in her quarters.”

“But she’s in London now, right?” Harry asked.

“I assume she is, as we haven’t heard otherwise,” the Imagic said.

Harry couldn’t hold back his confusion any longer. “Why are you so… different?” he blurted, “If the Imagic is meant to represent the real person, how come you are suddenly patient and even... even _polite_ with me?”

Snape’s Imagic sighed again, ”Mr Potter, those are deep questions. Even ordinary magic has its secrets and the art of magical painting is anything but ordinary or simple.” The Imagic seemed to consider his words carefully as he went on, “Some secrets will never be unveiled. If I had to make an educated guess, I would say, any Imagic’s character represents the painter as well as the portrayed, as the artist decides which characteristics are transferred from human being to Imagic and which are abandoned. But be assured, if my former self had felt nothing but distain and hatred for you – I would not be able to behave as I do.”

Harry was stunned. Never before had the idea crossed his mind that the real Severus Snape might have felt anything but repugnance for him. He certainly needed time to get used to that idea.

“Some say, the opposite of love is not hatred, but indifference,” the Imagic continued. “Strong feelings of any kind indicate a connection between two people, wouldn’t you agree? Hence my remark about your relation with Mr Malfoy.”

Harry suddenly felt deflated. And bewildered. He had to admit, it made sense. Whatever that meant for him and Draco. Maybe he wasn’t as repelled by the guy as he had convinced himself to be? And what if Draco’s feelings weren’t as simple as pure distaste either? He had to concede, they were getting along much better this year.

Polly the squirrel jumped and landed safely on the Imagic’s shoulder, who smiled and started to pet the animal. From the hall outside the common room Harry heard voices and doors banging.

“It is time for me to leave, Mr Potter,” said Snape’s Imagic, “Don’t hesitate to contact us, if you are in trouble or in possession of information. Until then, I bid you a good day… and… please allow me to add some piece of personal advice – don’t cling to the past, but embrace the present.”

Then he was gone. Harry had never felt more confused.

***

Ten minutes later while Harry got dressed, he consciously decided to forget Snape’s remark concerning his relationship with Draco Malfoy. That was just nonsense anyway. No, he simply would not think about it, he said to himself, not at all. He had far more interesting things to ponder than Draco sodding Malfoy.

In the course of the day Harry had to admit, that was easier said than done.

Joking with Neville at the nearly empty breakfast table –very few students were up already– he certainly did not miss Draco’s silent presence. Surely Draco had eaten already, while Harry was talking to Snape? That skinny lad never ate properly anyway, most mornings he only toyed with his toast… (Harry had to concede, he was well aware of Draco Malfoy’s eating habits.)

After breakfast Harry went back to the common room to wait for Hermione and Ron. Last Saturday he had waited for them at his room, but he wanted to show them the Wizard’s Wood. That was the only reason he spent his morning in the common room. He was certainly not waiting for anybody else to show up, just Hermione and Ron. When they finally appeared, his friends were equally fascinated by the painting, as by Harry’s latest report of Snape’s refined Imagic. They could talk freely about the whole Imagic issue as no other eighth-year entered the common room all morning. Eventually the three of them got their usual load of home work done, thanks to Hermione’s insistence. (Still no sight of Draco.)

At lunch time the Great Hall was buzzing with students relishing the freedom of the hours ahead and exchanging plans for the weekend. As the new sports courses were a raving success, several teachers offered extra classes on Saturday afternoon. Harry’s friends shared their experience and exchanged recommendations which classes to try and what to avoid. Ginny and Cass had tried martial arts and planned to have a shot at cross country as well. Neville assured them, Josh’s class was a good choice, as he had joined it already. Ron loved football and found ball-room dancing quite entertaining. And everybody agreed, they had to give Highland Games at least a try, if only to please Hagrid. Harry had already taken one of Hagrid’s lessons – and apologised afterwards to a very disappointed Hagrid, that he would not keep it up for fear of being permanently injured by this sport. (Harry had no idea, which sports Draco had chosen so far. Where was that guy anyway? Skipping another meal? Nobody seemed to miss him, nobody mentioned him – not even Cass – and Harry most certainly did not intend to ask.)

As eighth-year students were not allowed to be part of Quidditch teams, Harry and Ron just watched Quidditch practice in the early afternoon instead. It was fun to observe the training from the side line and they also wanted to support Ginny, who had the honour of being Gryffindor’s captain this year. She ran the team brilliantly of course and was certainly in no need of advice, but still seemed to enjoy their presence at the stands. Eventually Cass joined them to ask lots of questions about Quidditch. (Which made Harry wonder, why Draco – who was quite a good seeker – hadn’t told her much about the game?)

After Quidditch practice Ron headed back to Hermione and Harry took his broom to the owlery to take Otto for a flight. He had visited his pet several evenings and was always pleased to find Otto in good spirits and ready to fly with him, an experience Harry had not been able to give his pet as long as they were in London. It was wonderful to loop and swirl together in the autumn air. Down below he saw a group of students running through the grounds. Maybe that was Josh’s cross-country class? (Was that Cass’ white blond hair shining in the evening light? Or maybe her cousin’s?)

At dinner time Harry grudgingly had to aknowledge – not to think of Draco Malfoy for one whole day was anything but easy. He entered the great hall partly expecting Draco’s place to be empty once more. The sudden sight of another white-blond head next to Cass gave him a jolt of pleasant surprise. Which didn’t mean anything of course.

“Wow, that’s as broad a grin as I’ve ever seen on your face, swim-mate!” Blaise boomed as Harry sat down, “You must’ve found a very satisfying way to spend Saturday afternoon – I’ve missed you in the pool, by the way… please don’t tell me you went cross-country like all the other worshippers of Josh the Fabulous?”

Before Harry even had a chance to reply, Draco said, “I’m most certainly not worshipping Jordan! I just happen to prefer having my probation officer in plain sight in front of me – instead of having him hard on my heels.”

Blaise laughed, “Well, that’s some plausible pretext, I’ll give you that!”

Cass jumped in, “What exactly are you insinuating, Blaise? Draco doesn’t need any excuse, he can practice whatever sports he pleases – just like the rest of us.”

“I second that,” Harry said, “and as you’ve been asking what I did – I watched Quidditch practice and then spent some time on a broom myself. Do you approve of these activities, Blaise, or are they even worse than cross-country?”

“Hey, keep your hair on, defenders of Draco the Delicate!” Blaise’ eyes darted from Harry to Cass and back again, “or is this the improved version of Crabbe and Goyle?”

Ron exploded with laughter spraying soup from his mouth all over the table. “Thank’s for that image, Zabini,” Ron said mopping up the mess with his wand, “I assure you, Harry’s not on Malfoy’s payroll, he’ll just defend anybody under attack. He’d do it for a troll as well, I assume.”

“That’s a very reassuring comparison, thanks Weasley,” Draco said with a frown.

His eyes found Harry’s – and stayed there. They were warm and grey and – just very beautiful. Harry felt a flash of heat rising from his neck up to his cheeks and he silently cursed – these damn blushes had to stop!

He was saved by a little bell flying in circles above all the tables ringing brightly. This was Deputy Headmaster Flitwick’s charming way of getting everyone’s attention.

“Good evening students,” cried Flitwick in his high pitched voice, “I hope you are all in good spirits and enjoy your weekend. As Headmistress McGonagall has urgent business in London to attend to, she asked me to address you on her behalf. First of all we are delighted that the new sports courses are a success and many students take the opportunity to try different sports – that is just what we had hoped for.

“A few announcements concerning specific courses: Professor Slughorn wants me to say Zen meditation has still some room for new attendants. Gamekeeper Hagrid heartily invites girls– sorry, female as well as male students to his course – he wants me to put that straight, as he has been asked about it several times. For the time of Headmistress McGonagall’s absence Professor Laddley will run football training as well as swimming – thank you, Gregory, for that! Therefore we had to rearrange several time-tables a bit, please take notice. And finally I want to clarify that singles are very welcome to Ballroom Dancing, you do not have to come in pairs – it’s not Noah’s Ark, you know.” Flitwick giggled, he seemed to enjoy his own joke.

But many students from traditional wizard families knew very little about Muggle mythology and therefore asked their Muggle-born friends, what kind of a dating service Noah’s Ark had been? After some laughter and whispered explanations Flitwick continued, “And finally it is my pleasure to announce, that we will have a ball – literally a ball – at Halloween!”

This announcement drew an outcry of approval and much applause from the students.

“Quiet please,” Flitwick cried, “In exactly three weeks Halloween celebration will start with an afternoon tea party for all students at five p.m. followed by a festive dinner at seven. After dinner fourth to eighth-year students are invited to stay at the great hall for the ball, younger students will spend the evening at their respective common rooms.” Disappointed sighs and much grumbling from three tables made clear, how the younger students felt about that.

“We have not yet decided on a theme for our Halloween celebration – we wanted to hear your ideas first. If you have a suggestion for the ball’s motto, write it on a slip of parchment with your name on it and put it into this pumpkin –“ Flitwick pointed to a huge pumpkin with a lid like a post box sitting in front of the teacher’s table. “– within the course of one week.

"Next Saturday at dinner time we will draw the topic. Professor Tharros and myself will help you thereafter with creating your costumes. Just one more thing: To give everybody a good chance to find their balance on the dance floor, from now on we will have dance parties every Saturday evening right after dinner until ten p.m. – starting today! So if you want to shake your limbs, come to the gym tonight – singles, couples and threesomes – everybody is welcome!” With a bow and a final clap of hands Flitwick sat down again.

“Is he drunk?” Ron looked puzzled by Flitwick’s enthusiasm, “I guess he is! I mean, talking about threesomes? That’s…”

“Oh, the high moral grounds of Gryffindors! What a bore!” Blaise teased with a dirty grin. “I certainly would not complain about having two pretty witches to f... f… foxtrot with. And Ms Granger herself seems very happy, having not just one but two favourite heroes of our time at her command.”

Harry and Ron drew breath to yell their protest but Hermione beat them to it as she said with a wicked grin, “Well, they come in quite handy, in case I want to have some obnoxious Slytherin punched in the groin.”

“Ouch!” cried Blaise with mock hurt.

Harry was pleased to see that Draco laughed as heartily as the others. Still, Draco did not look at Harry again. Not like minutes before. Harry’s insides did a funny little twist when he recalled that moment, just before Flitwick had given his speech. _Look at me,_ Harry pleaded silently, glancing nervously at the blonde head, _look at me again._

Still Draco avoided his eyes like he usually did except in the early mornings. During their morning tea routine Draco seemed relaxed, he teased Harry quite a bit but in a distinctly friendly way. But in front of others Draco’s behaviour towards Harry was rather cool. Which irritated Harry more than he wanted to admit.

“So, let’s all go to the gym, check out the dance party, shall we?” Ginny said eagerly. “I think I really want to try ballroom dancing, as Flitwick said I don’t have to bring a partner… pity, you’re paired with Draco already, otherwise I would ask you to dance, Cassy!”

“You do ballroom dancing?” Harry blurted at Draco.

“And they are really good at it too!” said Hermione, “mind you, Ron is also doing rather well.”

“Always the tone of surprise,” Ron replied with a smile at his girlfriend, who grinned and snuggled up to him.

“Ballroom dancing is considered part of pure-bloods’ social skills repertoire,” Draco said with a shrug, looking up at the ceiling as if talking to no one in particular, “Cassy and I had lessons together when we were just kids.”

“Oh, don’t pretend to be bored, Dray! I won’t believe it for a second.” Cass said. “Admit it, you enjoy dancing as much as I do – otherwise I’ll dance with Ginny instead.”

“Go on, dance with her, I don’t mind.” Draco said to Cass.

“No,” cried Ginny, “I mean, I’d love to dance with Cassy, but I don’t want to push myself between you – actually, I want to see you two dancing together, Hermione has marvelled about your elegance … maybe both of you could dance with me just once in a while?”

“Here comes the next happy threesome,” grinned Blaise.

***

One hour later Harry had to admit, Cass and Draco dancing together was a sight to behold, a bit dazzling in fact. They were the best of the ballroom class by far and Harry was not surprised, when Hermione told him, Flitwick often asked students to follow their example during dancing lessons.

The dance party was already in full flow. Harry, Hermione and Ron were watching from the side-line. Flitwick instructed beginners in one corner, the rest of the floor was crowded by couples showing very different dancing levels. Some enthusiasts improvised with much attitude and very little skill, others were obviously well aware what they were doing. Traditional pure-bloods, Harry assumed. Well, some pure-blood traditions were rather nice, he had to concede. Draco and Cass, both clad in their usual style of crisp white shirts and black formal trousers whirled around the room. Harry was awestruck – so much grace and harmony, their body language so similar, it was as if one beautiful young person was dancing with their own shadow.

“Why did you never tell me –“ Harry stopped mid-sentence, as Hermione was led to the dance floor by Ron. They were no match for Draco and Cass, but still did very well, compared to other couples. Their bodies just seemed so comfortable together… one could actually see how much they loved each other. Harry sighed.

Cass and Draco waltzed by and Harry sighed some more. Which one of them was actually leading right now? If he was not mistaken, they changed roles while he was watching. They moved most gracefully, looking very much like two guys dancing together in fact, a sight he had never seen before… Harry took a closer look: most of the couples were made up by two girls, followed by traditional mixed couples and – yes – some boys were dancing together as well. Harry marvelled at their sight. There was Tommy, a handsome sixth-year from his swimming class dancing with a chubby redhead – they had obviously no idea what they were doing, but still seemed to enjoy themselves very much. Harry watched them longingly until he heard somebody else sighing at his side.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Ginny said softly as her eyes followed Draco and Cass.

Harry cleared his voice, “Sure… I mean… hmm…“ He was lost for words. How could he tell Ginny of all people, that the sight of Draco Malfoy dancing messed with his head in a most frightening way? Was Ginny feeling the same? If his ex-girlfriend and Harry himself were capable of admiring the same guy –not to mention that the guy in question was Draco fucking Malfoy!– life was full of weird surprises indeed.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat when everybody’s favourite dancing couple came to a halt next to him and Ginny.

Cass bowed slightly and held out her hand to Ginny, “May I have the next dance, my lady?”

Ginny blushed and stuttered, “Sure, but I warn you – I’ve no idea what to do, I’ll probably step on your toes and crush you and…”

“Hush, trust me, just follow my lead,” Cass said with a grin and off they went, leaving Draco and Harry behind.

Harry was dumbfounded. What was he supposed to do now? Dance with Draco Malfoy or run away screaming?

“You look like you might throw up any second now, Potter,” Draco said with raised eyebrows, “Afraid I might ask you to dance, are you? No worries, I won’t.”

“No! I’m not afraid!” Harry protested, “It’s just… I don’t dance. At all.”

“As so many times before you make absolutely no sense, Potter.” Draco shook his head. “You attend a dance party but claim never to dance? What a pity… for your countless admirers I mean. Who, it seems, lately include even a famous deceased Headmaster of Slytherin origins…”

“What? No!” Harry shouted, “That’s just… Snape’s Imagic just had to tell me something… which I can’t tell you, it’s confidential… “ He was furious at himself, about his nonsensical stuttering and about another fucking flush creeping up from his neck. Draco sodding Malfoy’s flushes really were contagious after all!

“Anyway, I don’t have admirers!” he shouted.

“I beg to differ,” Draco grinned. “Relax, I just wanted to prove I’m capable of – how did you put it a while ago? – ‘ _a friendly tease’_!”

And with a warm smile, a dazzling glance of those damn beautiful grey eyes and followed by a final bow of courtesy Draco Malfoy turned away to approach a group of very excited fourth-year girls and asked one of them to dance.


	11. The Talented Mr Malfoy

Next morning Harry woke up even earlier than usually. He decided to take a shower and get dressed before having early morning tea. Although he would never be as stylish as Draco Malfoy, he could at least make an effort. Wearing his best pair of jeans and the dark green sweater Andromeda had given him for a farewell present, Harry opened the door to the common room – it was vacant.

Harry pushed his disappointment aside and put the kettle on. Where was Draco? Harry had found their brief conversation last evening quite promising – surely it must be a good sign, if Draco talked about ‘ _a friendly tease’_? But maybe Harry had misunderstood? Maybe Draco was really annoyed about having been sent away by Snape last morning? Still, just in case, Harry prepared two cups of tea, his usual Assam with milk and a cup of Earl Grey with a hint of sugar, just the way Draco liked his tea.

Not wanting to ponder why he had excellent knowledge about Draco sodding Malfoy’s tea preferences, Harry settled down on a sofa and opened the roll of parchment he had brought along with a quill. He intended to make some progress on the Imagic investigation. Biting the end of his quill, Harry tried to concentrate. What questions did they need to ask? How could they find out about their new teachers’ background? And where the fuck was Malfoy?

Just as Harry started to write down the first question, the door opened and Draco appeared, slightly dishevelled, hair tousled and wearing a navy-blue dressing gown over pyjamas of the same colour. They stared at each other for a moment – until Harry started to laugh with relief.

“I overslept,” said Draco with a sheepish grin.

This bed head suited Draco far better than his usual sleek fringe. He looked… quite frankly, adorable. Harry gulped. That was a very disturbing thought indeed.

He cleared his voice, ”Well, I woke up earlier than usual… by the way, your tea is ready.” He pointed at the kitchen counter.

“Oh.” Draco blushed. “Thank you!” He smiled warmly at Harry who was glad to be seated – otherwise his knees might have given way.

Draco picked up his cup and, to Harry’s surprise, sat down on a comfortable arm-chair next to Harry’s sofa, not at his usual place across the room. And Draco was without a book this morning – he seemed to be in a talkative mood instead.

“You danced,” Draco said rather accusingly, “in spite of saying, you wouldn’t!”

Draco must have seen Harry’s attempts in the beginner’s corner of the ballroom, getting first instructions from Flitwick. He blew at his tea and Harry could see the tiniest bit of a pink tongue tipping the rim of Draco’s cup. Which was totally distracting.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled deeply before he said, “I admit to changing my mind. Although I wouldn’t call my efforts dancing yet. Well, I was told it makes no sense to attend a dance party without dancing. And I’ve learned to take advice – sometimes.”

“Oh. I see,” Draco blushed again and smiled in that sleepy-sheepish way again – and Harry was smitten. Draco looked so cute, so soft, so… approachable – it was a bit too much and Harry had to drag his eyes away. Of course he was glad they were able to talk to each other without ripping each other’s head off nowadays, but feeling attracted to his long-term adversary instead? That was just… no way. Far too disturbing a thought. To overcome this sudden attack of unwelcome emotions Harry changed the topic, “Have you finished your book? What were you reading all these mornings anyway?”

“Why are you suddenly interested in what kind of literature I prefer?” Draco asked back and the adorable smile was replaced by a familiar sly expression, “How about I’ll let you know what I read, as soon as you tell me what Snape’s visit was all about?”

“Look, I’m sorry but I can’t tell you, I promised to keep it secret, you know,” Harry ran his fingers through his hair, “if it were up to me…”

“Don’t pretend to trust me,” Draco said matter-of-factly, “I know you don’t.”

“Maybe I would, if you gave me some reason!” Harry protested.

Draco just snorted in reply.

Harry sighed. They were back to their former way of communication it seemed.

“Do we really have to behave like... this? I mean, aren’t we a bit too old for- for fighting like school-boys?”

Draco looked taken aback for a moment. Then to Harry’s relief, he grinned, “Considering the fact that we are indeed still school-boys, your argument seems rather pointless, don’t you think? And what’s the difference between your so-called friendly tease and school-boys fighting anyway? Please enlighten me.”

“I give up,” Harry raised his hands in mock despair, “if you don’t get the difference… you’re hopeless. But a good dancer, I’ll give you that.” He grinned at Draco and was rewarded with another smile. They seemed to be back on friendly terms – for the moment, at least. Certainly no need to feel threatened, Harry thought, so why was his pulse suddenly racing?

He drew his eyes away from Malfoy’s smiling face with some force and sipped at his tea… but nearly spilled his drink, when Draco suddenly said, “Maybe I’ll ask you to dance at the ball – only if I like your Halloween costume, of course.”

“What?” Harry shouted. Draco had only danced with girls the previous evening, he was sure about that. Was he making fun of Harry’s sexual orientation? Cass must have told him by now.

“Don’t panic, Potter, it doesn’t suit you. But I sure hope, your costume will – suit you, I mean.” Draco cocked his head, “What will you wear? Let me guess… something very heroic, I assume? A Muggle hero costume, perhaps? Superman… or Achilles maybe?” 

“Shut up, Malfoy.” Harry growled. Fuck, why was he blushing _again_? That git sure knew how to wind someone up. “I’m done with being a hero. And as long as we don’t know the ball’s motto, it makes no sense to even think about a costume.”

“Oh, but it does! Because I know the perfect costume that just goes with everything – I dare you to name three different mottos and I’ll promise this disguise I have in mind will fit in nicely with each of them!”

“No way,” said Harry taking up the bait, “let’s see… my first motto is: Famous Quidditch Players. Second: Chocolate-frog cards,” and with a triumph he added, “Third: Muggle film stars.”

“Perfect,” said Draco putting down his mug to count off his fingers, “One – he’s famous and a Quidditch player. Two – I’ve already collected a chocolate-frog card with his image. Three – if there is not yet a Muggle film about his life, it is only a question of time.”

Harry had an awkward feeling when he asked, “Do I even want to know?”

“May I introduce to you the perfect costume for every Halloween party world-wide: dress up as Superhero Harry Potter!” Draco said mock seriously. “Extra bonus in your case: minimum effort required.”

“You’re insane,” Harry muttered, before he added with a grin, “but I’m very honoured to hear you cherish the chocolate-frog card with my picture. I sincerely hope you keep it on your bedside table?”

Now it was Draco’s turn to blush. “You wish, Potter…” He rose from his chair and turned to the door. “Thanks for the tea and the inspiring conversation, but I’ve got to make myself presentable.”

 _Which will not improve your looks one bit,_ Harry thought taking one last glimpse of Draco Malfoy’s adorable bed-head.

***

Harry spent the rest of the day mostly outdoors, as the weather was fine again, but the forecast promised rain soon enough. He took Otto along to visit Hagrid in the morning and in the afternoon discussed the Imagic issue with Hermione and Ron, sitting on a bench near the lake, making plans for their enquiries into the matter.

Finally Harry went to the Guest House’s common room after dinner. He had rarely been there in the evenings, as the novelty of having his own private room had been more tempting than any want for company. Like most nights before, Ron and Hermione retreated to their respective rooms at exactly the same time. Harry strongly suspected, Hermione had done something to the wall between their door-to-door rooms. Most probably she had managed to create a cosy two-room-apartment for the two of them. It must be nice to have some privacy with one’s lover, Harry thought.

The evening crowd at the common room was pleasant enough, Harry had to concede. Luna, Neville, Dean and Seamus were playing a weird game of cards, which Dean had learned from a Muggle great-aunt living on the continent. Harry watched for some time but found the rules of the game hard to comprehend – he never even knew, who teamed with whom as they seemed to change partners all the time.

Ginny and Cass shared Harry’s preferred early morning sofa. They pretended to read but mostly giggled and whispered to each other. Very few younger students had access to the Guest House because they were related to eighth-years. Luna claimed to be a distant cousin of Neville's - 'seventh cousin six times removed' she had said, whatever that meant. Harry strongly suspected she wanted to spend time with Dean and not Neville. And Ginny and Cass were officially visiting Ron and Draco, although they mostly came to avoid the noise of the overcrowded Gryffindor common room. Ron was of course nowhere to be seen – he was in all likelihood snogging Hermione in the privacy of their shared rooms. Draco on the other hand was present, but seemed totally absorbed in a book once again.

Blaise stood behind Harry’s chair at the corner of the card table. “Forget that boring Muggle game, Harry, nobody in his right mind uses Roman numbers nowadays,” he said, “how about a game of wizard chess instead?”

“Harry doesn’t like chess and this is anything but boring, Blaise!” protested Luna, “I find it very entertaining indeed! And the cards can even predict one’s future while playing!”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Luna, but that’s just rubbish,” Dean said, “it’s simply a game, not an oracle.”

“Oh, but the cards must be magical! Look at number twenty-one! Every evening the moon on the card is exactly as full as the real moon outside!” Luna exclaimed.

“Yeah, I might have charmed the cards a bit,” Dean grinned at Luna.

“You’re such a show off,” Seamus rolled his eyes.

Harry sat straight in his chair. “You know how to charm pictures?” he asked Dean who just shrugged.

“He always had a knack for Charms, got an Outstanding at his O.W.L., the swotter,” Seamus slapped Dean’s back and Neville shuffled the cards.

“Oh yes, Dean is so very charming,” said Luna with an adoring smile at Dean, who looked equally embarrassed and pleased by her praise.

Harry sighed. Luna and Dean’s mutual attraction was plain to be seen. He needed to find out more about charmed pictures preferably before they started snogging, which might happen soon enough by the look of it.

He cleared his voice. “Charming indeed. Is it difficult, Dean? To charm pictures I mean? Could you create an Imagic for example?”

“Don’t be daft, Harry,” Dean said, “only the most excellent Charms masters are able to create Imagics, it’s really demanding to perform Magical Arts… I only mess with photos a bit, just for fun.”

“Oh, but you could well be a famous magical artist one day,” Luna said with dreamy eyes, “cause you draw and paint really well.” She turned to Harry and continued, “Dean drew such a nice picture of me with carbon pencil and even managed to make my image wink at him!” she said proudly.

Dean flushed and mumbled, “… yeah, but that’s still nothing like a true Imagic, Luna.”

The other young men grinned. Dean Thomas was obviously having it bad for their blonde Ravenclaw friend.

“Where did you learn to do that? Did Flitwick teach that last year, while I was on the run?” Harry asked.

“Nah, Magical Arts is not part of Hogwarts’ curriculum,” Dean sighed, “pity, actually. And I’m Muggle born – last year I wasn’t allowed to attend school anyway.” He picked up the cards he had been dealt by Neville and furrowed his brow before he addressed his fellow players, “My game!”

Seamus and Luna just passed, but Neville declared, “Calling cockatoo!” – which made the other three players groan.

Blaise, who was still watching from behind Harry’s chair, rolled his eyes, ”Totally insane, that game!”

“Yeah, insane, boring, stupid – you keep telling us every evening. Makes one wonder, why you still keep watching?” Seamus teased.

Blaise puffed up, “For want of better entertainment of course! It’s a shame Chastity is not related to any of you lot…” He sighed.

Neville suddenly said, “King of Hearts!” He picked up some extra cards and concentrated hard on his hand. “What to keep, what to dispose…” he murmured.

As the game was obviously on hold until Neville was done, Harry addressed Dean once more, “But who taught you, if you didn’t learn it at school… how to charm pictures, I mean?”

“Dumbledore showed me,” Dean said to Harry’s surprise, “When we were fifth-years he found me drawing one day. He must have liked what I did – it was a picture of the castle, you know – so he encouraged me to practice. Gave me a book about Magical Arts and showed me some simple charms to add small movements to my drawings. I was still too young to use magic that summer, but Dumbledore said, I should keep it up anyway… continue to draw the non-magical way during the holidays.”

“Dumbledore of course,” Harry muttered to himself.

“Why are you suddenly interested in Magical Arts, Harry? You want to become an artist yourself?” Blaise asked, “Merlin help me, if I’ve got to deal with yet another creative nutcase – Draco’s obsession with dance and music is bad enough.”

“Hush, off you go,” Neville said to Blaise, “I’ve got to concentrate, if I want to win that one. Why don’t you ask our nutcase musician to play the piano for us?”

Harry was astounded. Draco could play the piano? He had heard music coming from the common room some evenings but hadn’t bothered to find out who was playing. Draco’s talents seemed countless.

“Yes please, Dray!” cried Cass climbing up from the sofa, “Play some dance music, will you? A slow waltz maybe? I want to teach Ginny the steps.”

Draco looked up from his book. If Harry was not completely mistaken, he had listened in to their conversation all along. Draco searched the room until his eyes found Harry’s, who smiled encouragingly.

Draco sighed and closed his book. “Oh well, Cassy, if you want to dance, I must play,” he said and approached the upright piano.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are intrigued with that weird card game Harry's friends are playing - this is not just a crazy idea of my overstrung brain - it's an actual game Muggles play in some European countries. Check it out [https://www.pagat.com/tarot/koenig.html]


	12. Investigations and Informants

In the course of the next week Harry, Hermione and Ron started what they called ‘Operation Imagic’. Each of them tried to get closer to their respective suspect after lessons to gather as much information as possible. Ron was most successful by far. Whether the reason was Josh’s past history with the Weasley family or just because Josh Jordan was openhearted and trusting in general, Ron was soon able to talk freely to Josh and ask any question he liked without raising suspicion, even when he brought up the topic of Magical Arts.

“Josh admitted, that Ms Malfoy’s hexed painting might be a bit fishy, not exactly in accordance with present law. _‘Don’t ask too many questions about legal issues’,_ he said, _‘that’s the Auror’s way of getting stuff done’_ ,” Ron told his friends with a satisfied grin. 

It was Friday night and they had gathered once more in Harry’s room to compare notes and plan further proceedings. Harry had the distinct feeling, neither of his friends wanted to have him in their rooms. Probably to keep their sleeping arrangement secret, Harry suspected.

“And he claims to have no clue about Magical Arts, says Charms were always his least favourite subject,” Ron continued, “the guy is either completely honest or a spiffing actor. Frankly I trust him and I think he also trusts me.”

“Oh, I wish I could say the same for Tharros,” Hermione complained, “that woman is so straight forward, totally focused on her work, she is.”

Harry and Ron passed a grin – _look who’s talking_ , Harry thought.

“As long as I stick with the topic of last lesson or Transfiguration in general, she’s talkative,“ said Hermione, “but as soon as I try to bring up any other issue, she locks up like a clam.”

“Laddley is much the same,” Harry confessed, “I didn’t get much out of him besides suggestions how to improve my swimming technique.”

“Yep, that’ll be my natural charm, that makes all the difference,” Ron mocked.

“Did you know there’s a German proverb about flattering oneself, my dear? ' _Eigenlob stinkt_ '- self-praise stinks, they say.” Hermione smirked.

“Says the show-off, who quotes weird foreign proverbs,” Ron shot back.

“Ms Quotation and Prince Charming, my I have your attention please?” Harry jumped in to prevent yet another Granger-Weasley bickering duel. He knew from years of experience, that his friends would go on like that for hours, if he didn’t interfere. “For whatever reason we make different progress, at least there is some progress at all. Let’s stick to our plan and write down what we have learned so far.”

Harry flattened the parchment they had prepared last Sunday afternoon, which listed all the questions, they wanted to get answered, and three columns, one for each suspect.

“Right… first question- house loyalties? Well, Jordan seems to be just as truthful and trusting as any Hufflepuff is supposed to be. As head of house Tharros has to be a Gryffindor of course.” Harry jotted down their houses’ names, “Laddley is a Slytherin, that’s at least one fact I’ve established. I’ve even heard rumours that he might become the next head of Slytherin as soon as Slughorn retires. That’s supposedly why the board of school governors brought him in – to enforce some change on Slytherin, 'cause having a Muggle studies expert for Head of House is a big thing, of course.”

“Wow, that’s interesting,” Hermione said, “who told you?”

“Draco–,” Harry cleared his voice, “I mean, Malfoy said so. It might come in handy to have a Slytherin informant, don’t you think? Anyway he kind of warned me about Laddley, said not to be fooled by him – I think he knows something disadvantageous about Laddley’s past.”

“You did not you tell Draco about our investigation?” Hermione looked alarmed.

“Of course not!” Harry said with feeling, “Draco warned both me and Blaise because we’re on the swim team.”

“Draco, is it now?” Ron raised his eye-brows in mock horror, “well, well, things have come to a pretty pass.”

“Don’t be daft, Ron,” Hermione said with a nervous glance towards Harry, “why shouldn’t we call him by his given name? He’s practically a friend of ours this year!”

Harry was grateful for her back-up but still felt slightly embarrassed. He cleared his voice. “Anyway. Draco or Malfoy, whatever you want to call him– he said, the guy’s not to be trusted and can be quite nasty. When I tried to get him to spill some details, he refused to tell. Just said, no Slytherin in his right mind should want Laddley as head of house.”

“A Slytherin in his right mind – that’s an oxymoron, isn’t it?” Ron smirked.

“Oh, stop it, Ron! The war is over, time to move on – it’s about time we get over house-prejudices!” Hermione exclaimed before turning to Harry, “I think it’s great that you and Draco are getting along so well.”

To his utter embarrassment Harry blushed. Those fucking contagious Malfoy-blushes! Did Hermione know about his and Draco’s morning encounters? He wouldn’t rule it out, although he hadn’t told anybody. Hermione sure had a way of comprehending relationships that was far beyond Harry’s abilities. And, yes, Draco and Harry still spent every morning at the common room together, although their routine seemed to have shifted slightly since last Sunday. Draco had, as he put it, conformed to Harry’s dress code– meaning he was wearing pyjamas and a dressing gown. And although Draco still brought along a book, he was much more talkative than before. Each morning Harry became acquainted with a very different Draco Malfoy, a person he hadn’t known before and liked better day by day. They might talk a bit, tease each other or watch the sun rise in silence – Harry had to admit he felt utterly comfortable in Draco’s presence. Except for the uncomfortable truth of being also… well, sexually attracted. Probably because of seeing him in pyjamas.

So far he had been able to push those feelings aside. Mostly. With the exception of some heated phantasies under the shower. But that was private, right? Draco just was a very handsome bastard, perfectly normal for a gay teenager to be turned on by his looks. Didn’t mean a thing. Certainly no reason to actually fall for someone.

Harry was determined to keep it that way. Being friends with Draco Malfoy might be okay, as Hermione had just stated, but fancying Draco Malfoy? The thought alone was more than a bit disturbing. Harry was relieved he had finally gotten Josh out of his mind and certainly did not need another unwelcome and totally pointless crush... no, he just would not fall for Draco Malfoy, thank you very much.

No matter how tempting those grey eyes might be... and although Draco admittedly had a very cute ass... and however arousing it was to think of certain pale lips and slender fingers while… well, taking a shower. Harry cleared his voice.

“And if your friendship is useful for our investigation – all the better,” Hermione said with finality, “I suggest, you keep asking Draco to suss out Laddley’s past. It doesn’t sound as if he wants to protect Laddley… I wonder what Laddley might have done, that didn’t stop the school governors from hiring him?”

“Maybe it’s something they don’t know? Maybe Laddley was a Death Eater in secret?” Ron mused.

“Well, that would be the strongest reason for expulsion ever, but I can’t imagine the Ministry didn’t check each member of staff most carefully,” Hermione said and Harry had to agree with her.

“Yeah, that’s most unlikely. Plus Draco would not keep it secret, if it were that horrible. He could even improve his probation regime, if he were able to unmask a hidden Death Eater, don’t you think? I guess it’s something more personal, a flaw of character probably. Okay, I’ll try to persuade him to tell me.” Harry said, “Next question: Ability or talent for Magical Arts? According to Ron, Josh claims to be clueless. I wasn’t able to bring it up with Laddley so far. What about Tharros?”

“She cut me short, as soon as I asked her about it. Said, I should consult with Flitwick instead,” Hermione sighed, “in fact, she looked at me, as if I were a bit dumb. Can’t blame her… asking the Transfiguration teacher for Advanced Charms is a bit like asking for milk at the hardware store, isn’t it?”

“Hmm, maybe the Draco-approach would work with her as well?” Ron narrowed his eyes.

“The Draco-approach? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Harry asked slightly taken aback.

“Calm down, Harry,” Ron grinned, “you’re still a bit oversensitive as soon as Malfoy’s name pops up, don’t you think? What I’m trying to say is, maybe we should find someone who knows about Tharros’ past? An informant? We could ask other members of staff… or I could write to my parents? I always had the feeling they know each and every Gryffindor alive or dead.”

“Great idea, Ron,” Hermione beamed at her lover, ”asking your parents, I mean. But they will be most surprised, if you suddenly owl them… you’ll need a good reason not to raise suspicions.”

“I could tell them, that I’ve heard unkind rumours about Tharros and want to stand up for her! Miming the gentleman, that’ll do the trick!” Ron said proudly.

Hermione laughed.

“Well, that'll raise no suspicions at all,” Harry teased, “obviously.”

***

Late in the evening Harry opened the door for Ron and Hermione, who finally retreated to their respective rooms (or, more likely, to their cosy apartment). He heard piano music coming from the common room. Either Draco was still awake… or somebody else was playing? Harry decided to have a look. As the investigation gave him every reason to improve his relations with Draco Malfoy –Hermione had told him so, mind you– he did not intend to procrastinate. Not even late at night. When he entered the common room, he found the card players just about ready to leave and yes, Draco played the piano.

“That’s a nice tune, Mr Malfoy,” Harry said, “what is it?” Lately they had started to address each other with mock formality. Harry couldn’t even remember, who had started it but he felt, the rudeness of using just last names didn’t suit them any longer and they didn’t dare using first names – yet.

“Tango, Mr Potter,” Draco answered. Although he obviously played by heart, as no sheet of music was to be seen, he did not turn around.

“You’re way too late Harry! Ginny and Cass just left, you should have seen them dancing the Tango… wow, that was hot,” Seamus said with a dirty grin.

“I’m sure, they only did it for your pleasure, Finnigan,” snapped Draco and Harry totally agreed with him. He certainly did not approve of Seamus lusting after Ginny or Cass.

“Which was terribly distracting and made you forget to support your partner, you wretched dickhead,” Dean complained, “I’ve lost the final game because of you.”

“Wouldn’t have made much difference,” Neville grinned, “pity, Gran strictly forbids playing for money, could’ve made a fortune tonight.”

“Cassy asked for you, by the way, Harry,” said Luna, “I believe she wants to talk to you about the motto of the Halloween ball. Have you all made suggestions? I did. My motto would be ‘Unsolved Magical Mysteries’ – I would just love to dress up as a Whiffwhirl-girl.”

“You would sure make for a lovely Whiffwirl-girl,” Dean said, “… whatever that may be.”

Draco snorted and finally turned around for a moment, “Perfect motto, Luna, for my intended costume at least.” He grinned at Harry, who mouthed silently ' _Don’t you dare!_ ' in reply.

“I’ve suggested ‘Famous Quidditch Players’,” said Seamus, “I’ll come as Victor Krum and all the girls will fawn over me.”

“And you truly believe you would be the only Krum present?” Draco laughed at Seamus, “Lo and behold! The sweetness of simple minded Gryffindors!”

“Well, I have to make a move, can’t have all the pretty girls suddenly falling for Draco sodding Malfoy, because he’s a such good dancer,” Seamus grumbled.

“Surely not all the pretty girls have a crush on Draco?” Dean looked at Luna with a slightly nervous expression.

“Oh, no,” Luna laughed, “at least, I don’t.” She smiled at Draco. “But I’m glad we are friends this year, Draco… I really like you, after all… but of course, you fancy somebody else.”

To Harry’s surprise Draco blushed violently and turned away. The other guys wolf whistled and started to pester Luna, whom she was talking about, but Luna just smiled in her sweet innocent way.

“I assure you, I have no idea, what you are talking about, Luna,” Draco said with finality, but his blush told otherwise. He closed the lid on the piano and rose, “I bid you all a good night,” he nodded politely to the others, but did not even look at Harry, when he left.

“Secretive sod,” Seamus complained.

“Give the man some privacy,” said Dean, “he’ll have his reasons to be discreet.”

After that everyone said quickly good night. Dean offered to walk Luna back to Ravenclaw tower, which she gladly accepted, the others went to their bedrooms.

Harry closed the door of his room, heart pounding. Luna’s insinuation, Draco might fancy someone, was extremely disturbing. But why not? As far as Harry knew, Draco was straight. The only person Draco had been dating at Hogwarts was Pansy Parkinson, at least for the time Harry was at school. Draco and Pansy had been an odd couple. She was fawning over him, while he seemed to tolerate or even to endure her affection rather than return it. Back then Harry had assumed, that was just Draco’s arrogant way of being with someone.

But in the course of just three weeks Harry had learned, Draco’s personality was made of much more than arrogance and selfishness. Draco was polite and even respectful towards Hermione. He was totally easy-going with Blaise and when Draco looked at Cass, it was obvious he was capable of caring deeply for someone. So why had he been such a poor boyfriend to Pansy? Not the right girl?

If Harry was totally honest with himself, he lately had hoped for another reason. He had hoped… that maybe Draco being with Pansy hadn’t been so much different from Harry’s own attempts of giving heterosexuality a try.

Maybe there had been someone else last year, when Harry was on the run? He had to find out, he would ask Ginny about it –

Harry gasped when a most devastating idea hit him _. What if Draco fancies Ginny? What if Ginny returnes his affection?_

Memory after memory flashed through Harry’s mind: Ginny stating Draco’s handsomeness on the train. Draco smiling at Ginny and laughing with her. Ginny and Draco dancing together last Saturday. Even Draco snapping at Seamus just minutes ago, probably to protect Ginny– suddenly it all made sense. They were in love. Harry felt sick. So that’s why Draco attempted to befriend Harry! That’s why he was polite with Hermione and Ron! It was all about Ginny and had nothing to do with Harry at all.


	13. Madness at the Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otto wants me to say that he is very pleased to have fans and that he would nuzzle you all if he could - especially those who are unwell. Get well soon! *Hoot Hoot*

After a restless night Harry woke up when the sun was shining already. Stirring thoughts had kept him sleepless for hours and he only fell into a fitful slumber shortly before dawn.

“Oh fuck it,” Harry groaned. It was way too late for early morning tea with Draco. But what was the point of it anyway? Draco would not miss him, most likely he had only kept to their routine to humour Harry for Ginny’s sake.

Harry felt deflated. Whom was he trying to fool? There was no denying it – he had allowed himself to be smitten by Draco Malfoy. Brilliant. Harry moaned in frustration.

First Josh, now Draco – he really had a knack for picking the worst possible love interests ever. At least this time nobody knew about his fancy as he had refrained from making a complete fool of himself by approaching Draco. Small mercies.

Sighing deeply, Harry dragged himself out of bed and decided to stick to his tried and tested approach of keep going one day at a time.

When he entered the Great Hall half an hour later, Cass was talking to Hermione and Ron over breakfast.

“’Morning, Harry!” Ron shouted, “Guess what? All students are confined to Hogwarts’ territory! Even us eighth-years are no longer allowed to go to Hogsmeade – what do you make of that?”

“Shush, Ron,” Hermione elbowed her boyfriend. “The headmistress will have her reasons, won’t she?”

“’Morning,” Harry mumbled and couldn’t keep from adding, “Where’s Ginny?”

Cass smiled at him, “She and Draco went cross country running with some others from Josh’s class – early morning sports, can you believe it?”

Harry glanced sideways at Ron who didn’t seem to mind. Oh well, if the elder brother did not object, surely the ex-boyfriend had no right to complain either.

Harry forced some food down his throat before he changed the subject, “Luna said you wanted to talk to me, Cass? Presumably about the motto for the Halloween ball?”

Cass only laughed, while Hermione said, “We were just discussing possible themes, but Cassy refuses to tell what she suggested. My motto would be ‘A History of Magic’ and Ron went for ‘Famous Muggle Football Stars’ – what’s your idea, Harry?”

“I didn’t suggest anything, it’s all the same to me,” Harry said.

“Pity, actually, but at least you won’t be disappointed to hear, that I don’t want to talk about the ball, but something else entirely,” said Cass and with an apologetic smile at Hermione and Ron she added, “how about going for a walk after breakfast, Harry? Now’s probably our only chance to go outdoors, before the rain starts again.”

In the course of last week the weather had finally turned and heavy winds and downpour had locked them in for days. This morning’s surprisingly mild air with a bit of sun lured everybody outside again.

“Fine,” Harry said, “But I’ll fetch Otto before we go, if you don’t mind?”

***

As Cass had never been to the owlery before, she accompanied Harry up the high tower where his bird lived. Otto hooted excitedly at the sight of his master and another lady friend – at least Otto was not ambiguous about his preference of girls above boys. He flew immediately to greet Cass, sat on her shoulder and made the same funny cooing noise again, that had already amused Hermione. Most of the other owls ignored Harry and Cass completely. Some were fast asleep after a night of hunting, others just came back from a flight or made their leave.

Harry and Cass stepped to one of the owlery’s open windows and gazed down. “Wow, that’s amazing!” Cass was awestruck. The castle stood in all its glory between the Forbidden Forest and the lake. Heavy clouds in the morning light made for a dramatic backdrop.

“When the sky is clear, you can see mountains at the horizon,” Harry said. He felt ridiculously proud of his home, because this is what Hogwarts meant to him: home. And whatever turmoil his emotions were giving him, he was right where he was meant to be, at the place he loved and cherished, the place he had fought for.

“We could talk here, if you like? There’s no room more private in the castle”, Harry suggested, as nobody would be able to climb the squeaking spiral staircase without giving them notice. Otto finally stopped nuzzling Cass' hair and took his seat on Harry’s arm.

“I’d like that,” said Cass resting her arms at the windowsill, “it’s so peaceful up here as if one’s troubles are not that important after all… does this sound silly to you?”

“Not at all, I guess I feel the same about this place, have been up here many hours over the years.”

They watched the owls flying in and out for a while in silence. A huge snow-owl landed close to them and stared at Otto, who seemed to be delighted by the attention.

“Look’s like another owl bred by Malfoys,” said Cass, “you know, it was actually Draco’s idea… that I talk to you.”

Harry gulped. What did Draco want him to hear?

“He said, you seem to be interested in Magical Arts lately and it might be useful for you to know a bit about famous artists and collections.” Cass gave Harry a questioning look, who just stared at her. How come Draco knew about his interest? Harry was quite surprised as he had never told Draco anything about the Imagic issue.

When he nodded anyway, she went on, “Well, I have to admit it’s not my favourite topic, Harry, but I owe you so much, you’ve made it really easy for me to find my place at Hogwarts… and I do know quite a bit about it, because the creep that happens to be my father,” she said the last word with distain, “is a master of Magical Arts.”

Harry gawped at her. “I had no idea about that! And Draco is quite right, I am presently collecting information about Magical Arts, so any insight you can give me is much appreciated. But… this is a confidential matter, I cannot tell you why I need to know and I have to ask for your discretion.”

“Of course, Harry,” Cass made a zipping gesture across her mouth.

Otto seemed to sense her discomfort and moved back to Cass’s shoulder hooting softly. She smiled and petted the owl distractedly while she continued, “So here it goes… my sleaze-bag of a father, Taurus Malfoy happens to be a very talented painter and also a first class expert of Charms. Being a Malfoy he did not really need to find himself a profession, even as a younger son he was well off financially, but his talents did not stay unnoticed among wizards and witches interested in arts– which are not too many, I have to say. Compared to the Muggle world, our lot seems to be rather single minded. We pretty much focus on magic and Quidditch, that’s it. Most witchards –that’s the gender neutral term for witches and wizards, by the way– have no clue about music, fine arts, sports, foreign cultures and what not. It’s a shame actually.”

To get back to the topic at hand, Harry said, “Yeah, right you are. So… who cares about Magical Arts?”

“It’s mostly pure-blood families and big institutions who commission paintings and collect. The Malfoy collection of fine Magical Arts is one of the most famous in England, other families worth to be mentioned are the Bulstrodes, the Selwyns and the Shafiqs – these four are the only families that still collect big scale. Or at least, they did before the war. The Malfoy fortune is frozen until Draco’s probation is over and I guess it’s the same for other pure-blood families. The fifth relevant private collection used to belong to the Ollivander family. But their paintings were rendered to the Ministry by Garrick Ollivander’s father, as his only son’s single talent and interest has always been wandlore. Since then the former Ollivander collection is stored at the Ministry archives, which happen to hold the greatest number of magical artefacts in the world.”

Harry listened with interest although he had no idea, how this information might be useful for the investigation.

“Good to know,” he said anyway, “and what can you tell me about magical portraits, about Imagics?”

“Creating an Imagic is considered the highest form of Magical Arts, only very few artists are capable of it. It’s a required skill for the position of Charms Master of Hogwarts of course, as it is his or her duty to create an Imagic of the Headmaster or Headmistress for the famous portrait collection of Hogwarts.” Cass paused and added, “I’d very much love to see those paintings by the way…”

“Maybe we can ask McGonagall,” Harry suggested although he was pretty sure, Cass would not be allowed to see the portrait collection until Albus Dumbledore’s Imagic was back. “So, how many magical artists are presently able to create an Imagic? Can your father do it?”

“I don’t know the exact number, but the Ministry of Magic does, as any painter who is capable has to register at the Ministry – quite the same as for other special abilities of witchards, like Animagics or Metamorphmagics. The Ministry likes to know who’s capable of what, in case something goes horribly wrong.”

Harry was well aware, that any such registry was not necessarily complete, by proof of unregistered Animagics such as Rita Skeeter or Harry’s very own father.

“And no, my… Taurus isn’t one of the present Imagic Masters. I remember him boasting about his abilities to charm and hex paintings in numerous ways, but he never managed to create an Imagic– with one exception, he has painted a fair number of self-portraits and those seem to be Imagics alright, but he never succeeded in creating any other Imagic. Which makes sense – he’s such a narcissist, whereas true Imagic Masters are supposed to be extremely kind-hearted and positive personalities. I think, he always envied them,” said Cass.

Otto buried his head in Cassy's neck which made her giggle. "You're such a sweety! If Harry ever gets tired of you I'll adopt you - promise!"

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Nope. No such luck, Cassy!"

He pondered on further questions to ask and suddenly remembered the portrait of Walburga Black. “Did you know Ms Malfoy helped me to get rid of a nasty Imagic? She used a hexed painting to lure her aunt’s Imagic from my house… I assume what she did wasn’t totally law abiding.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard, Draco told me,” Cass looked worried, “but… you will not get Aunt Cissy into trouble for it, Harry? I think, she isn’t even aware that her hexed painting is illegal.”

“Of course I won’t! I’m immensely grateful for her help, and as Josh Jordan was witness of the events, it can’t be all that bad anyway,” said Harry to reassure Cass. “I would just like to understand how this works, the hexed painting I mean.”

Cass snorted. “You are certainly not the only one,” she said with a frown, “Taurus was ever so proud of that hex, but he kept it secret.”

Harry was perplexed, “You mean to tell me, Taurus Malfoy himself did it?”

Cass nodded. “Both painting and hex are his work, yes. It’s kind of his masterpiece. What else would you expect from an artist who happens to be a Death Eater, but a painting that is nothing but a trap and a jail. He painted just the banquet, whereas all the Imagics were lured into it.”

“Well at least Draco’s mum makes good use of it,” Harry said, “She told me about other nasty Imagics she locked into the hexed painting.”

“Yeah, she did.” Cass paused for a moment and grasped the windowsill hard. When she continued to talk, she faced the open sky, as if she were not talking to Harry anymore but to the air, the wind and the light rain that hat started to fall again. Otto seemed to sense her discomfort and cooed softly as if he wanted to calm Cassy.

“Harry, how can I describe the Manor’s horror to you? Just remember what Walburga Black’s Imagic did to your house and multiply this effect... that’s about what it was like at the Manor when Draco and I were kids. Growing up I was mostly able to ignore those ghastly Imagics, but Draco was –he still is– very sensitive… don’t look so doubtful, Harry, you have no idea… anyway he was really frightened, didn’t want to enter some corridors by himself and had nightmares. Uncle Lucius considered this behaviour ridiculous and did nothing but tease Draco, which made matters worse. Aunt Cissy was devastated. That’s when Taurus jumped in and proclaimed he would do something to help. I think he always fancied Aunt Cissy and wanted to impress her with a gift. Poor mother.”

Cass sighed and Harry just stared at her.

“Oh Harry, I know this must sound awful, but the Malfoy family was nothing but dysfunctional, when Draco and I were little. Two brothers who detested each other, two weak wives and mothers who tried to calm the waves and avoid any confrontation – and us kids. Frankly, we wouldn’t have survived, without each other and our beloved Nanny.”

Harry was shocked. As much as he himself had suffered at the Dursleys’, at least he had been loved and cherished for the first fifteen months of his life. Also the knowledge, that those awful relatives, who raised him, were not his real parents, had made his pain somewhat more bearable. He could well remember daydreaming about being rescued by his real parents, who in his phantasies had miraculously survived the ominous car crash– and in a way they actually _had_ rescued him. Because it was their heritage of witchcraft and wizardry, that finally led Harry from the Dursleys to Hogwarts– even for the price of having to fight Voldemort.

Compared to Harry’s own upbringing, the Malfoy family seemed to have been even worse. While Cass kept stroking Otto’s soft feathers, he contemplated her story and asked, “I’m really sorry for you… and for Draco of course. But… what I don’t get is– why did Lucius and Taurus hate each other in the first place? And if so, why did they still live under one roof?”

Cass handed Otto back to Harry and he saw that her fingers trembled. She bit her lips, much in the same way Draco did. Harry was once again startled by her looks, by the likeness to her cousin.

“Oh, Harry… we are not talking about Magical Arts anymore, you’re aware of that?” She smiled at him for a brief moment in a most fragile way, “but it’s probably all for the best that you know… Taurus was always immensely jealous of his elder brother, he did not hold Lucius worthy of being the heir and owner of the manor.” She sighed deeply. “You know what Taurus’ homophobia did to me– well, at the root of it was his aversion against his brother’s homosexuality.”

Harry gasped, “You mean to tell me Lucius Malfoy is gay?”

Cass nodded, “Yep, queer as a quicksilver Sickle. Awful, isn’t it? I want other queer people to be nice, kind-hearted and tolerant, but of course being queer doesn’t make you a better person. Being discriminated against doesn’t improve one’s character, I’m afraid.”

“But you are,” Harry said, “nice, kind-hearted and tolerant – in spite of your upbringing.” Otto hooted approvingly.

Cass blushed, “That’s very sweet of you to say, Harry. Well… you know, sometimes I think, being shipped off to Aunt Mella was the best thing, that could have happened to me… especially compared to Draco’s fate… anyway, where was I? Taurus hated his gay brother, his delicate nephew and his tom-boy daughter. He was convinced, he himself was supposed to be the true Malfoy heir and frankly, I think he would have rejoiced, if both Lucius and Draco had dropped dead.”

Harry gawped at her.

Cass continued, “Shocking, isn’t it? But trust me, I don’t exaggerate. As for Taurus’ reason for staying put at the Manor, well, he did not want to let go of the arts collection – he experimented with old paintings, examined their magic and created his own. Meanwhile Uncle Lucius relished in supressing Taurus and made his brother’s life as difficult as possible. Lucius is so full of himself, all arrogance and smugness. His homosexuality was nothing he was ever ashamed of– which would be a good thing, if it were not rooted in his huge dislike of women and anything feminine. He truly believes gay wizards are superior beings. Poor Aunt Cissy.”

Harry suddenly remembered Andromeda’s comment about her sister’s marriage and he was horrified. Narcissa Black had been forced by her family to marry a man, who did not love her, but even despised women in general? Just because he was immensely rich and needed a wife to give birth to an heir? The Black family must have been quite as dysfunctional as the Malfoys.

Cass gave Harry a shy look. “Oh well, now you know more about our lot, than you ever wanted to know, I guess. To sum it up– Taurus hexed that painting to impress his sister-in-law. He tried to seduce her again and again… don’t look at me like that, Harry, I saw him groping Aunt Cissy on more than one occasion! She mainly escaped by keeping a maid with her at all times. And my mother just had one miscarriage after the other and pretended not to see, what was going on.”

Harry could not hold back any longer, he threw Otto up in the air and his arms around Cass. He held her close.

“I had no idea,” he murmured in her hair, “no idea at all, what a dreadful, dreadful family.”


	14. A Slytherin Suspect

Cass' story about the Malfoy family had stirred something deep inside Harry’s heart. He was full of compassion for Cass – and for her cousin too. Growing up in such a messed up environment must for sure shape one’s view of the world, of relationships – and of love. Harry had to admit he had never considered Draco Malfoy’s circumstances anything but most fortunate. He had only seen the outside of course, Draco being the only child of devoted parents, enjoying wealth and privileges in abundance. Although Harry’s opinion on traditional pure-blood families had never been the best, this glimpse behind the curtain had given him a view far worse than anything he had ever imagined.

When Harry and Cass finally climbed down the staircase from the owlery and were walking back to the castle’s main entrance, they bumped into Ginny and Draco, who had just returned from running and were both drenched by the rain, all sweaty and laughing amiably. Seeing them so happy together, Harry’s jealousy melted. How could he begrudge Draco this? Dating Ginny would eventually bring Draco closer to the Weasley clan, the most loving and caring family Harry had ever known – maybe that was exactly what Draco needed…

They took shelter beyond the porch and Cass teased Ginny for having obviously slipped on the wet ground as her back was covered in mud. Ginny laughed, turned around and wiggled her bottom in Cass’ direction which made Draco laugh out loud.

Harry’s heart ached – no, he would not interfere, but he certainly did not have to watch this either. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he said and turned to leave, walking towards the entrance of the Guest House.

“'You alright, Mr Potter?” Draco called after Harry. He sounded slightly worried – had he missed Harry at the early morning hour? Or was this just wishful thinking?

“'Course I'm alright, Mr Malfoy!” he said talking back over his shoulder.

“What’s this weird Mister-and-Mister thing you two have going?” Ginny asked. Cass giggled. But Harry shrugged, kept walking and did not wait for Draco’s response.

 _Unfortunately there is no such Mister-and-Mister thing,_ he thought climbing upstairs. He wanted nothing more than to be alone in his room. Maybe there was time for a nap before lunch? Suddenly Harry felt extremely tired.

But when he entered the main corridor of the second floor, the door of the common room flew open and Luna shouted, “Quick, Harry, have a look at the painting – this squirrel behaves ever so oddly!”

With a sigh Harry turned back to the common room and stepped in front of the Wizard’s Wood. Polly behaved very strange indeed. The red squirrel jumped up and down in a crazy routine, from one little birch up to the mighty elm and down to the birch, again and again.

“It’s been doing this since I came to the room a few minutes ago,” Luna said, “I just wanted to fetch you. Professor Flitwick said, we should tell you immediately, if something unusual happened in this painting.”

“Hi Polly, what’s going on?” Harry addressed the over excited animal.

As soon as Polly heard his voice, she stopped dead at her present place at the elm’s branch. The squirrel stood upright on her hind legs and stared at Harry, snout twitching and tail lashing frantically from one side to the other.

What was that supposed to mean? How should he know what to do _? What a stupid means of communication,_ Harry thought shaking his head.

“You want to tell me something? Hm… let me guess... Flitwick needs to see me?”

Polly kept staring unmoved except for her fluffy tail.

“Wait – is McGonagall back?”

Polly jumped up to the next branch but continued to stare from her new position.

“Ok, so she’s back… shall I go to her office?”

Polly jumped down to the forest floor, zigzagged between the trunks and disappeared.

“Wow, you can talk to animals!” Luna was awestruck.

Harry had to smile. Maybe this way of communication was not so daft after all.

***

When Harry arrived at the foot of the moving staircase to the Headmistress’ office, McGonagall’s Patronus was already waiting for him. He climbed the stairs right behind the silvery cat and found the door at the top of the stairs slightly ajar.

“Come in, Harry,” McGonagall shouted over the sound of many angry and shocked voices.

Harry stepped inside and immediately knew something had gone wrong. The present Headmistress looked stern and some of the former headmasters’ and headmistresses’ Imagics seemed to be even terrified and shocked, as many of them talked or shouted at the same time.

“You wanted to see me, Professor… sorry, Headmistress, what in Merlin’s name has happened?” Harry raised his voice above the noise.

At the sound of his question the Imagics fell silent. Polly had been faster than Harry. Nibbling a hazelnut she sat on top of an enormous green hat of a rather stout looking Headmistress, who cried quietly in her hanker-chief.

“Hello Harry,” McGonagall sighed, “I’m afraid the whole affair has taken an unpleasant turn. It looks like two more of my predecessors have vanished last evening.” She pointed her wand at two empty frames near the window. “The Imagics of Selena Darknight and Amanda Da Ponte, both former Headmistresses from the House of Gryffindor, left for a stroll in the painting of Bellevue Beach –that is one of the paintings in my private quarters– and didn’t return as expected.”

“They always go to the beach on Friday night together and come back before midnight,” Headmaster Black explained gazing at Harry wide-eyed, “they are never late!”

The witch with the squirrel-topped head sobbed, “The silly girls wanted to investigate! They thought sticking together they would be safe! I told them to stay put but they would not listen to me!”

As Harry’s gaze fell on another empty frame he asked with alarm, “Where’s Professor Snape? He’s not missing as well?”

“Headmaster Snape is presently making enquiries at Bellevue Beach, trying to find some clue what might have happened there,” McGonagall explained, “he should be back soon.”

“What if we lose him too! It is way too risky to walk around alone!” the tearful Headmistress exclaimed.

“Right you are, Headmistress Longbottom,” Phineas Nigellus Black said with a snort, “Severus the fool can’t resist playing the hero.”

McGonagall turned to the wailing Headmistress, who seemed to be an ancestress of Neville, “I want to remind you, that we have been talking about safety measures before I left for London. No Imagic was forced to investigate, but some of you –same as some humans– simply prefer to act instead of sitting around waiting. And Severus will not go missing right now – Professor Flitwick is with him at my living room,” McGonagall said reassuringly.

“But what if the abduction happens between paintings? Nobody knows exactly, how the transfer from frame to frame works anyway!” Phineas cried. The other Imagics all kept quiet, Black seemed to have become their spokesperson.

McGonagall sighed, “Headmaster Black, please calm down. We need to focus and we need to keep our minds clear. Hysterics are never helpful. I promise, we will get to the bottom of this unpleasant affair. I am not even sure, Amanda and Serena are missing, they might just be a little late and return with important evidence.”

“Easy for you to say, Headmistress,” Black snorted, “as it is just us Imagics who are in danger, no human has gone missing… so far.”

McGonagall nodded and Harry was shocked – did she seriously consider the possibility of violence swapping into the real world, not just threatening Magical Arts?

Attempting to lighten the atmosphere Harry said, “Anyway, it’s so good to see you again, Headmistress, I’m glad you are back at school, especially at times like this. What have you found out at the Ministry archives so far?”

“I might as well tell you while we are waiting for Filius and Severus to return… please sit down, Harry.” McGonagall sighed, “The head of the Ministry archives, Amanda Pince who is our Madam Pince’s younger sister, happens to be a very good friend of mine and with some persistence and a little bribe she let me have a look at the archive’s visitor registry.”

McGonagall opened a roll of parchment lying on her desk. “I took notes… both Professor Tharros and Professor Jordan paid several visits to the archives during the summer months, which is not unusual at all. Preparing for classes often requires research especially for new teachers. But neither of them went to the archives after mid-August and if our esteemed Imagics remember correctly, and we have no reason to doubt this –“ several of the Imagics around the walls murmured their approval, “– Albus’ Imagic disappeared sometime during the last week of August. So both Jordan’s and Tharros’ visits seem to be unsuspicious.

“Just to be sure I also checked which sections of the archives they searched. Professor Jordan had a look at Magical Arms and Weapons, Professor Tharros mostly studied Rare Transfigured Objects and copied some parchments as well. Their interests were exactly what one might expect considering the subjects they teach. Neither of them went anywhere near the Magical Arts section.”

“What about Laddley?” Harry asked.

“He never visited at all, which is not surprising. The archives don’t hold Muggle items.” McGonagall rolled the parchment further down and sighed again. “Which brings me to unpleasant news, I am afraid. When going through the records of all visitors during the last week of August, one name stood out. According to the registry on Friday the twenty-eighth of August a person presently staying at Hogwarts visited the Magical Arts section. Yet, it is not a teacher, but a student – Draco Malfoy.”

Harry gasped. “No way! I don’t believe this for a second, there must be a mistake surely. Draco can’t be involved!”

McGonagall gave him an astonished look. “I must say you surprise me, Harry! You were never shy to blame Draco Malfoy for any kind of mischief or wrongdoing before!”

Ignoring her comment Harry tried to steady his voice and to sound as reasonable as possible, “You said the culprit is supposed to be a teacher. The message of Ancient Runes, remember!”

“First of all, translating Ancient Runes is an art in itself and the results are often ambiguous, Harry. We might simply have misunderstood the message, Dumbledore has left us. And even if we didn’t, there could be more than one person involved. That’s why I checked all the names in the first place. If there is indeed a teacher involved, they might simply have an accomplice.”

“But surely not Draco! This is ridiculous, he wasn’t even in London at that time but in Edinburgh with Cass and her Aunt Mella – isn’t she a friend of yours? Draco was grounded and under a Tracking Spell trailing his every move for the whole summer – it’s impossible.”

“My first thoughts exactly, Harry. The entry of Draco’s name made no sense at all. That is why I stayed for a few more days and decided to confide in Kingsley Shacklebolt, as he has not been to the archives for months and I never believed him to be involved in the first place. Kingsley quietly checked Draco Malfoy’s tracking records without giving notice to Auror Jordon and had to tell me, the records are dubious for the day in question.”

Harry’s heart sank. McGonagall seriously suspected Draco to be responsible for the missing Imagics! 

The headmistress went on, “Kingsley says this is not unusual because the Probation Tracking Spell is less than perfect. Nobody talks about it, because they don’t want delinquents to know. I told him in no uncertain terms that this is highly unprofessional of course! The Ministry must fund research for a proper spell as reliable as the Under Age Magic Tracker, which was developed at Hogwarts and works perfectly as we all know.”

She cleared her voice, “Considering all the facts, I’m afraid we have to treat Draco Malfoy as a suspect.”

“This is ridiculous,” Harry said barely keeping his temper, “why should Draco do something like that? Why risk his probation? He has nothing to gain by abducting Imagics!”

“My own thoughts exactly, Harry,” McGonagall answered. “Trust me, I don’t want to believe that one of my students is involved. And especially not a student, I personally vouched for to get him back to Hogwarts.” She looked at Harry with much concern in her eyes and Harry remembered McGonagall’s testimony at Draco’s trial. She had indeed spoken very much in Draco’s favour and put the full force of her own respectability in account. Harry had been quite surprised at that time.

“That is why I went to Edinburgh before returning to Hogwarts, to talk to Philomella in person. Of course I didn’t tell her anything about Dumbledore’s missing Imagic. I just wanted to ask her opinion on Draco’s behaviour, whether she believes him to be truly reformed and regretful concerning his past. She is quite convinced his remorse is genuine and heartfelt.”

Harry nodded in agreement, that was exactly his opinion too. Those very few times the topic of Draco’s dreadful past had come up between them, Draco had seemed painfully aware of his mistakes.

“And what does she know about Draco’s whereabouts at the twenty-eighth? He was grounded at her house, right?”

McGonagall sighed again. “I didn’t even have to ask her, Harry. She and Cassy were with me, here at Hogwarts, on that very day. They came to see me, mainly to talk about Cassy attending Hogwarts and her upcoming Transfiguration exam. Not that she needed coaching, as she was doing very well already. Draco stayed back at Mella’s house alone, at least that’s what he was supposed to do. No one can testify for his whereabouts on that day.”

“And because the Tracking Spell didn’t work properly, you assume he left secretly and Apparated back to London for a few hours, ran to the Ministry and abducted an Imagic? Seriously?” Harry shook his head. “I don’t think he is even capable of wandless Apparation and his wand was still confiscated at that time.”

“I know, Harry,” McGonagall looked as unhappy as Harry felt, “I have to repeat myself – I most certainly do not want to believe this, but common sense tells me, we cannot rule it out. Especially if we think there is more than one person involved.”

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. His mind raced. He had to convince McGonagall, he had to find the flaw in her arguments. Draco simply could not be responsible for this mess.

“But what if… somebody else pretended to be Draco? Gave a false identity at the Archive’s registry? They could even have used Polyjuice Potion!” Harry argued. “How do they check visitors’ identities anyway? At Gringotts any wizard or witch has to present their wand and Draco didn’t even have his wand!”

“I’m afraid the Ministry archives’ security system is rather weak, they don’t check wands,” McGonagall said. “Maybe this affair will even be the reason for some improvements long overdue – but of course that would not be helpful for our case. Presently the procedure is simple enough. One walks up to the counter at the entrance and signs the registry, the receptionist merely checks the appearance of the visitor by comparison to a picture from the Ministry’s own files. Kingsley let me have a look at Draco’s file, his picture was taken at the trial and is not very good. Any blonde young person might pass for him. One would not even have to use Polyjuice Potion.”

“So you see!” Harry said with some triumph.

“It’s not about what I think, Harry. My opinion does not matter at all. Fact is, according to the Archive’s registry Draco Malfoy was at the Magical Arts collection on August twenty-eighth and no one can vouch for his presence in Edinburgh. If you insist, that Draco has nothing to gain by abducting Imagics, let me ask: Who has something to gain by setting up Draco? And we must not forget – less than two years ago Draco Malfoy actually tried to kill Headmaster Dumbledore in person.”

“But he didn’t do it! Even when he had the chance, at the top of the tower, he just couldn’t – and that’s what makes all the difference!” Harry shouted. “He never wanted to actually kill Dumbledore in the first place!”

“Harry,” McGonagall said, “calm down. Do I really have to remind you, that in his attempts to kill Dumbledore he wounded innocent others – Ron Weasley among them?”

Harry felt sick and torn apart. How could he convince McGonagall, that the Draco Malfoy he had come to know during the last few weeks was so very different from that confused, misguided and self-centred boy two years ago?

“Anyway, Harry. It does not matter anymore.” McGonagall continued. Suddenly she seemed exhausted. “As I have chosen to inform Kingsley Shacklebolt, the matter is out of our hands. Draco is one of the suspects, just like Professors Jordan, Laddley and Tharros. Kingsley trusts Dumbledore’s message and believes a teacher to be involved anyway, no matter who abducted the Imagic at the Ministry Archives. The Auror department has started to make enquiries. As one of their own is among the suspects, the investigation is highly confidential. Kingsley himself will lead the operation. He will come to Hogwarts as quickly as possible and I am sure, he’ll talk to you. In the meantime we have to keep our eyes open and report any news to Kingsley – which I just did, telling him about the latest disappearances. At least the recent incident gives proof, that the traitor or his accomplice is indeed right here at school.”

“Three Imagics gone, that’s a serious weakening of our security system,” Snape’s nasal voice said suddenly and Harry had never been more relieved to hear it. He wondered how long Snape had been back in his frame listening in? Snape had always favoured Draco.

“Not much information to be gained from the crime scene, I’m afraid,” Snape continued, “the Bellevue Beach is as pleasant as ever but a first rough search gave not away what has happened to our two missing colleagues. The only clue I have found so far, is an empty bottle. Professor Flitwick is still examining the object.” He raised his voice to the other Imagics, “Does anybody know about a bottle at Bellevue Beach? I cannot remember seeing it there before. Or is there a bottle amiss in some other painting?”

All remaining Imagics shook their heads and Headmistress Longbottom wailed, “Oh poor Amanda and Selena! What a disaster!”

***

Harry was anything but in a festive mood this evening. At lunchtime he had barely been able to look at Draco. Last night’s concern about Ginny and Draco’s evolving attachment seemed ridiculous compared to the present threat. If Draco was framed by someone for any sort of crime, he would lose his probation and be sent to Azkaban, a prison that had destroyed much stronger characters. The thought alone made Harry feel sick. And he totally refused to believe, Draco might actually be involved in this foul play.

After lunch he had told Ron and Hermione briefly about the latest developments. Not even wanting to hear their opinion, he retired to his room pretending to feel unwell. In fact he did. He could not bear the thought, Ron and Hermione might actually consider Draco being guilty. They had joked about Draco being the perfect suspect just a week ago – but this was no longer a joke. Harry felt nauseated, terrified and oh, so very tired. He wanted to talk to Cass about it, but that was out of the question of course. In the end he broke down on his bed and slept during most of the afternoon.

At dinner-time many students chatted excitedly about the dance party later that evening and the upcoming ball, but Harry kept quiet.

“Are you still feeling sick, Harry?” Hermione asked. “You should go see Madam Pomfrey about it.” Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances.

Harry murmured something about feeling slightly better to avoid further questions. It did not improve his mood, that Draco seemed to be very subdued as well and hardly spoke a word. More than once he caught Draco staring, but as soon as Harry met his eyes Draco blushed and lowered his gaze.

“Whatever happened to the two of you?” Blaise boomed in is usual blunt way addressing Harry and Draco, when all of them had finished eating eventually. “Are you afraid your motto for the ball will be drawn and everybody finally hears about your most perverted phantasies? I assume Princess Malfoy went for something totally girlish, like ‘ _Pink Unicorns in Love’_?” 

Draco snorted and Blaise continued, “And Potter… hmm… I can’t picture your kink yet…”

Before Harry had a chance to reply, Draco hissed, “Shut up or I swear, I’ll curse you!” It did not sound like a joke at all.

Blaise’s mouth fell open for a second, before he grinned widely and said, ”Hey, Malfoy, whatever happened to your sense of humour? Or is this you protecting Potter? Interesting indeed…”

“You’re such a gobshite! I’ve had enough of your obnoxious comments!” Draco shouted. He stood up abruptly and turned to leave.

“Wait, Dray, you can’t go before the motto is chosen – just ignore Blaise!” Cass pulled at Draco’s sleeve and held him back. “Just a few more minutes, please!” 

As always Draco was unable to ignore Cassy’s wish. “Alright, if you insist… but I’m not sitting next to that idiot one more second.” Having said that Draco squeezed in between Ginny and Cass.

“Quiet please!” shouted McGonagall’s rising from her place at the staff table. “Good evening students! I am very happy to be back in time for the drawing of the motto for our Halloween ball! Thank you for all your contributions, I am sure there are many brilliant ideas to be found in this pumpkin. But only one motto will be chosen…”

She levitated the pumpkin with her wand from its place at the foot of the staff table and made it rise up in the air. “This pumpkin has been enchanted to spill the most appropriate motto and the name of its author, who will be asked to explain, if necessary.”

The pumpkin rose up high into the air right above the centre of the hall – until the Headmistress waved her wand once again making the pumpkin explod into masses of orange confetti, paper streamers and sparkles. At the same time a surprisingly sweet voice announced, “The motto of this year’s Halloween ball will be ‘ _Wonderful Witchards – a Night of Gender Bender Glory_ ’ and was suggested by Ms Cassiopeia Cornelia Malfoy! Hooray! Relish! Enjoy!” And with one last bang setting off a cascade of sparkles the spectacle was over.

For some endless seconds the hall fell totally silent. Most of the students and members of staff alike seemed stunned. One by one people started to clap their hands. Some were obviously polite enough to do so although they had no idea, what that motto was all about. Others grinned widely and began to cheer. Ginny jumped up and struck one fist in the air yelling “Yes!”

 _Oh no,_ Harry thought, _just what I need on top of everything else!_ He forced a smile on his face and started to clap his hands too.

“Well done, Cass,” he said with as much enthusiasm as he could master.

The guys at Harry’s table looked mostly as nonplussed as him, but the girls seemed to be delighted by the chosen motto.

“Brilliant idea!” Hermione beamed at Cass, “I wish I had come up with that thought!”

Only when Luna said, “Oh this is wonderful, I’ll grow a beard for that occasion, I’ve always loved facial hair…” and Dean squinched up his face in uttermost terror, Harry finally started to laugh wholeheartedly, as did all of his friends.

“You’ve got the spirit, Luna,” Cass grinned, “I’m looking forward to meeting your big bushy beard!”

When the applause ebbed down McGonagall shouted, “Miss Malfoy, please come to the staff table and enlighten us about your motto!”

Cass drew a deep breath and rose from her chair.

Before she stepped up, Draco got to his feet as well, hugged her tight and said, “Oh well, I get it, you just couldn’t resist – crazy Cassy, go give your speech!” He was flushed and seemed torn between pride and panic.

He sat down again in his usual place facing Harry. They looked at each other. Draco’s eyes were shining and so full of feeling, it made Harry gasp and flush. It was a small relief to see that Draco’s face was quite pink too. With an effort Harry turned his eyes away to watch Cass walking tall towards the staff table. She nodded politely at McGonagall, stood next to her and addressed the students.

“Good evening everybody, I’m Cass and I’m deeply honoured that my motto has been chosen. I repeat: ‘ _Wonderful Witchards – a Night of Gender Bender Glory_ ’. If you are not familiar with the word ‘witchard’ – this is a gender neutral term for both witches and wizards. I have suggested this topic because I regret that gender issues are far too often neglected in our magical society. Let me tell you about my background.” She paused for a moment. Students and staff alike were listening closely. Cass was an excellent speaker and had her audience’s full attention.

“I am a pure-blood who was neglected a proper magical education up until now. Why? To put it briefly, my parents were ashamed of me. I am a girl but I do not feel and behave in all aspects of my life according to the female stereotype. I prefer to dress like a guy. I am attracted to girls. It’s always been like this and that is totally ok with me. But my parents did not agree. My father especially was abhorred by my preferences and when I was eleven years old he made sure that I was not admitted to Hogwarts. I had to attend a Muggle school instead. For the older students – that’s why you haven’t seen me those past years at school. Only now, after the war, with witchards like my father defeated, I am finally here and it means the world to me. Truly, it does! To be quite frank – often enough I have a hard time understanding my fellow students, when you complain about school, when you moan about homework… or lessons… or exams. Honestly? Have a little gratitude for your lot, people, really! Count yourself lucky!”

She grinned and made the pupils laugh while the staff clapped enthusiastically.

“Count yourself lucky but don’t pity me. Muggle school was great and I learned a lot. The school I attended is very progressive and one thing I really, really liked was the school’s gender awareness policy. We had support groups and discussions and a zero tolerance policy concerning gender related bullying, homophobia and any other kind of discrimination. Tell you what, I miss this at Hogwarts. In general our magical society is rather tolerant and our sole problem with hate crime seems to be racism against Muggle-borns. But I still feel that under the surface of tolerance there is in fact a lot of ignorance.”

Her audience started to murmur and even some protests were to be heard.

“Well, I challenge you – prove me wrong! Show me your idea of gender variety! Let me be clear: in my opinion this is not just about cross-dressing and sexual preferences, it’s about awareness and acceptance of all kinds of variety. I believe each and every one of us is truly a _Wonderful Witchard –_ and deserves _a Night of Gender Bender Glory_. Thank you!”

The applause following her speech was immediate and roaring, all the seventh- and eighth-year students at Harry’s table got up and cheered on top volume. Harry was unsure whether McGonagall’s or Draco’s face was the one showing more pride and delight. 

“She’s brilliant… wow… that girl sure knows how to give a public speach!” Ron was as amazed as all of Harry’s friends.

When Cass neared their table again, Ginny beat Draco to hugging her first and Blaise boomed, “Well - hullo, future Minister for Magic!”


	15. Mr Potter's Instincts

Harry dreaded the dance party, but loyalty with Cass made him show up anyway. The speech she had given boosted her popularity immensely – everyone wanted to talk to Cass and congratulated her on the chosen motto. Harry was secretly proud of his fellow students, obviously most of them were open-minded rather than ignorant. There was a lot of laughter, crazy ideas for costumes were to be heard and the atmosphere at the dance party was jolly and cheerful.

But Harry’s mind was occupied by the Imagic issue. Of course Draco was totally clueless about the suspicions threatening him and as much as Harry longed to warn him off, naturally that was out of the question. In fact Draco seemed to have a really good time at the party, his mood had improved significantly since dinner. As Cass was the most sought-after dance partner for girls and boys alike, Draco danced with Ginny nearly all evening, at least as long as Harry stayed at the party. He retreated early and went to bed in a foul mood.

Now he was awake before sunrise once again and lay in bed reminiscing about yesterday’s events… his suspicions about Ginny and Draco’s feelings for each other, the horrible story about the Malfoy family, Draco being a suspect in the Imagic affair and finally the Halloween Ball’s challenging motto – it certainly had been a crazy day.

Should he still go to the common room this morning to have tea as usual? And would Draco be there? Only one way to find out, Harry thought and grabbed for his sweatpants.

“Morning, Mr Potter,” said Draco standing in front of the Wizard’s Wood when Harry entered, “say hello to our new guest. Her name is Daisy, she’s a dedicated reader and we have already talked about our favourite books.”

Facing the painting Draco waved his hand in Harry’s direction saying, “Dear Daisy, may I present to you the famous Mr Harry Potter. He’s a superhero but surprisingly enough still quite a decent bloke, as I only found out recently.” Draco smiled at Harry.

Just two days before, Harry would have rejoiced in being addressed like that by Draco. But now he just murmured, “Good morning…” and barely mastered to fake a grin. He turned to the painting partly to avoid Draco’s eyes.

Indeed, there was a girl with a book in her lap sitting at the foot of one huge tree. She looked about ten years old, wore a white dress with lots of lace and ribbons - and seemed very impressed by Draco’s introduction.

“Good morning, Mr Potter, I’m Polly’s replacement. I hope you do not mind?” she said in a shy voice.

“Hello Daisy, nice to meet you! Of course I don’t mind, in fact it’s very good of you to come. Please call me Harry, ok?”

Harry’s mind raced. What was that about? Why had the Headmistress suddenly sent a human Imagic to the Wizard’s Wood? Was Daisy even safe being all alone in this painting?

Finding his words carefully he said, “Are you quite alright, Daisy? Isn’t it a bit scary to be all alone in the forest, especially at night-time when none of us students is at the common room?”

Daisy smiled, “Oh no, I love to be in the forest at night! The Headmistress told me exactly how to behave anyway… and I have a friend to keep me safe.” She grinned and pointed up the tree behind her, which was so tall its top must be way above the frame. Up in the highest visible branch Harry could barely make out massive claws of a bird, hidden in the thick of twigs and leaves.

“Pinkie, come down and say hello to Harry and his friend Draco! Come on, be a good boy!” Daisy called.

The impressive claws lifted from the branch and within seconds a huge raptor sailed to the forest floor touching down next to the girl. Both Harry and Draco involuntarily took a step backwards and Draco even cried out. The bird was gigantic and with sulphur yellow eyes and a beak bigger than Daisy’s hand the beast looked positively terrifying.

“That’s a good birdie!” Daisy said lovingly to the bird and patted his head. “Professor Flitwick created him only a few days ago, so Pinkie is still a baby. I have wanted a pet for a century and now I have the loveliest companion ever – he’s such a darling, don’t you think?”

Harry and Draco were both speechless for a moment.

“He sure looks very… impressive,” Harry finally managed to say. “I trust it must be very reassuring to have him around.” The bird flapped his huge wings a few times and immediately a storm hit the painting, leaves and branches danced in the wind and Daisy’s strawberry blond locks and her white skirts were in dishevel.

“Hush, Pinkie,” Daisy said straightening her dress, “don’t be naughty, calm down,” and the beast obeyed.

“Yes indeed, I feel perfectly safe in his presence,” Daisy continued, “I would not be allowed to be here without him and it is so nice to meet some younger people for a change – most of the Imagics are dreadfully old and boring,” she confided.

“I understand,” Harry said amused. He had a strange feeling, seeing this Imagic of a girl… her old-fashioned dress, her long hair reminded him of something, of someone… although he was sure he had never seen her before, she triggered some déjà vu – but he could not remember clearly.

“I am on duty of course,” Daisy sat straight and added with a very serious expression on her face, “Headmistress McGonagall asks to see Mr Harry Potter at her office in the afternoon at three p.m. to meet a visitor she is expecting.” Pinkie the raptor added an ear-piercing shriek to her message.

“Thank you for telling me Daisy, I will be there on time,” Harry answered. That would be Kingsley coming to investigate, he assumed. To change the topic he asked, “By the way – are you enjoying your book? And did Draco tell you what he is reading?”

Draco snorted, “Nice try, Mr Potter!”

Daisy giggled, “That is so funny! Draco knows you really well, Harry, he predicted, you would ask me about his reading! But I promised not to tell and Imagics always keep their promises. I’m reading _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ again, it never fails to entertain me.”

“Good girl,” Draco said with a grin, “we will leave you to your book now, because I need to talk to Harry about some boring school stuff… enjoy Beedle’s stories!”, and he winked at her. Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of Draco using his given name.

Daisy nodded eagerly and said, “Of course, Draco,” she opened her book and gave the bird a final pat to the head, “Hush, up the tree you go again, Pinkie!”

Harry and Draco fetched the tea Draco had prepared already from the kitchen and sat down at their usual place in front of one bay window.

Draco shook his head, “That bird nearly gave me a heart attack! And she calls him Pinkie? Seriously?”

Harry chuckled before asking, “What is it you wanted to talk about?”

Draco looked concerned. “Are you alright? No offence, but you look like shit!”

“Sorry, if you don’t like the way I look but I can’t help it,” Harry pulled a face.

“What?! Oh for Merlin’s sake, stop fishing for compliments! You know damn well how handsome–“ Draco cleared his voice and blushed violently even for his standards before he went on.

“Never mind – what is going on? Don’t pretend it’s nothing, I’m not stupid. Your sudden interest in Magical Arts, Imagics dropping in an out of this painting here – I assume that’s part of what is bothering you, right? That’s why I thought Cassy might have some valuable information and asked her to tell you… I’d really like to help too, you know, but I can’t, if you don’t tell me!” he pleaded. “Plus you missed yesterday’s morning tea. Big offence, Mr Potter! Had to pour your tea down the drain!” He grinned again but still looked worried.

Harry was perplexed. Could it be true that Draco thought him, Harry, handsome? That he was concerned about Harry’s wellbeing? What was that supposed to mean? And what about Draco’s crush on Ginny? Harry shook his head and grinned back.

“Your offer is much appreciated, Mr Malfoy… but – “

“Ah – the dreaded word: but!” Draco threw up his hands. “Well, just let me know, if you change your mind.”

“Will do, Mr Malfoy, will do,” said Harry sipping his tea.

Partly to change topic, and partly because he wanted Draco to confirm his feelings for Ginny he added, “You should be proud of your cousin, by the way. Her speech yesterday was really awesome! She’s such a great addition to our school, I really like her a lot.”

Harry hesitated a bit before he continued, ”Both Cass and you seem to get along very well with Ginny, don’t you?”

Draco dropped his gaze and drew a deep breath, “Do you mind?”

Harry’s stomach clenched and he gulped. “No, no… of course not. Just asking… Ginny is… she is like a sister to me. I don’t want her to get hurt, that’s all.”

“I know exactly what you mean, that’s just how I feel about Cassy,” Draco said raising his gaze and for one of those rare moments he looked right into Harry’s eyes.

Harry was startled. Those grey eyes had never looked so warm before. Still he was somehow confused about Draco’s reply. What had Cass to do with Ginny and Draco’s attachment?

“Although Cassy’s damned motto tormented my preferred costume of course,” Draco said winking at Harry, “hardly gender-bending if I dressed up as superhero Potter!”

***

As soon as Hermione heard about Harry’s afternoon appointment with the Headmistress she insisted on doing homework right after breakfast.

“Come on, ’Mione, give us a break, it’s Sunday morning!” Ron grumbled.

“May I remind you, neither of you did any homework yesterday – so you’ve enjoyed one fat break already this week-end!” she replied.

Harry did not even try to argue. She was right anyway and homework would probably keep his mind from worrying. They sat down to study in the common room, because Harry had pretended, he wanted to keep close to Daisy in case another message arrived. But that was mostly pretext.

Mainly he dreaded to hear his friends’ opinion on Draco being a suspect, fearing they might find the cause plausible enough. As they could hardly bring the matter up in a place where other students might drop by anytime, he hoped to postpone that inevitable discussion for some hours at least. But that did not keep his own mind off topic and Hermione had to call for his attention more than once. She looked quite worried, Harry thought. Ron, on the other hand, seemed to be slightly embarrassed for whatever reason.

Other students (but no Draco) came and went all morning, while Harry, Hermione and Ron kept busy scribbling their Transfiguration essays. Finally all of the other students had left for lunch, the three of them had finished their home-work at long last and were packing away their quills and parchments. Ron’s rumbling stomach gave proof, that lunch was well overdue. Still, Ron did not complain which was highly unusual in itself.

 _We are all alone and they still don’t bring up the investigation,_ Harry wondered, _what are they waiting for?_

Suddenly he could not hold back any longer, “Ok, so what do you think about the latest news on the Imagic issue? You’ve got no problem with Draco being a suspect, I guess? Come on, let me hear it!”

For some seconds his friends kept quiet, they just exchanged a glance of… worry, was it? Or compassion maybe?

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sighed, “does it really matter what we think? It won’t change your mind, you are obviously totally convinced that Draco is innocent. Still you know as well as we do that Kingsley and McGonagall have excellent reasons for their suspicions–,“ she raised her hands to stop him, as soon as Harry opened his mouth to argue, “ –no need to repeat what you said yesterday, Harry. Ron and I– we totally agree, Draco’s involvement makes no sense at all.”

“You do?” Harry was astounded.

“Of course we do. We discussed every aspect of the whole matter nearly all night long,” Hermione said, “I sincerely think he would not risk his probation for such a prank… or whatever that is. He’s too clever for that.”

“Give us some credit, mate,” Ron added, “Plus– anything that’s important to you is important to us as well. Mind you, I still don’t care much for the bloke, but as you insist on becoming friends with him… and Ginny as well…” Ron gulped.

“Ginny, yeah, they are pretty… close,” Harry said, “but I’m not sure I’ll ever be friends with Malfoy… he’s one moody bastard… sometimes we get along just fine and the next moment he’s…” Harry sighed, “he’s all tense and edgy.”

Hermione smiled at Harry. “And you have no idea, why Draco might behave like that? None at all?”

“Of course not! You make it sound, as if there was a reason to his ups and downs! But he’s totally irrational! If you think you’ve figured him out, please enlighten me!”

Hermione’s expression switched between amusement and embarrassment. “Well, his behaviour towards you might be irrational, but not necessarily without reason… anyway, it doesn’t matter what I think.”

“You know what really matters?” Ron jumped in, “I can’t get out of my head, what Lupin said on Potterwatch last year, about Harry’s instincts ‘ _which are good and nearly always right’_. So if you insist Malfoy is innocent, I’m inclined to trust you, Harry.”

“Wow. That’s…” Harry was lost for words for a moment. “Thanks. Honestly, thank you – that means a lot. So what do we do now?”

“Have lunch, for Merlin’s sake,” Ron grumbled, “can’t think with an empty stomach. You go listen what Kingsley and the Headmistress have to say in the afternoon and then we will work out a plan to straighten that mess out. But first things first! Lunch!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem, here we go:  
> “Hi there, lovely readers – Otto would be ever so pleased to read about your thoughts on this story, you know… Whodunit? and what not … (and Auntie just craves comments too)… also, if you happen to like what you’re reading we’d be delighted if you spread the link social media wise. Thank you for your attention!”


	16. Tabula Incidentia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's quite a looong chapter for my lovely readers! Take care + enjoy!

Harry was quite surprised when he turned into the corridor to the Headmistress’ office. McGonagall, Kingsley and Flitwick stood at the foot of the enchanted staircase obviously waiting for him.

“Good afternoon, Mr Potter,” McGonagall said and Harry could not help but feel a little bit disappointed for being called by his surname again.

 _Maybe she only calls me Harry as long as nobody else is around,_ he wondered _, ‘cause she doesn’t want to favour me?_

“Harry, good to see you,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep voice, “although I would have preferred to meet again for a less disturbing reason.”

Flitwick nodded and McGonagall explained, “We are going to my living room, Mr Potter, because we want to have a look at the crime-scene of Bellevue Beach. Professor Snape– sorry, his Imagic is waiting for us at the Beach already.”

She turned to the far end of the corridor and walked briskly ahead followed by the three men.

“How are you doing, Harry?” asked Kingsley.

“Fine, really glad to be back at school,” Harry said slightly out of breath as they were climbing a staircase at the end of the corridor, “apart from disappearing Imagics, I’d be totally happy… but that just sucks.”

At the top of the stairs there was yet another corridor. The Headmistress turned to the left, stepped through an arch and walked on. Trying to keep up with McGonagall they trotted along– Flitwick more or less had to run.

“That’s certainly one way of putting it. Well, I was hoping you might also be able to see it as a chance to work with the Auror department… considering your career plans, you know?”

Harry was surprised. “How come you know about that? Me wanting to become an Auror, I mean?” They took some more steps upwards, turned yet another corner and Harry was totally lost– he was quite certain he had never been to this part of the castle before.

Kingsley laughed in his booming voice and shook his head, while Flitwick chuckled and said, “With all due respect for your humility Mr Potter, you are overdoing it a bit! Do you honestly think your future is not of the greatest interest to all witches and wizards? The Prophet speculates frequently, what exactly Harry Potter might do after school and has put you in various fields already. But us teachers and the Order members alike, we always assumed you would sign up for Auror Training.”

“I’ve stopped reading the Prophet at some point during the trials,” Harry murmured, “couldn’t bear their horrible gossip anymore.”

“Quite understandably,” said McGonagall who had come to a halt in front of an artfully carved wooden door. She pressed her flat hand against an engraving of Hogwarts’ coat of arms and the door flew open. “Welcome to the Headmistress’ quarters!” she added.

They entered an elegant and spacious room. The view out of four large windows was nearly as impressive as from the owlery. Several comfortable looking sofas and chairs were spread around the room with small tables at their side, each of them covered in staples of books. So this was where McGonagall spent her spare time! The room was big enough to entertain a party and Harry wondered, whether the Headmistress sometimes asked other members of staff to join her in the evenings? Had Dumbledore done that?

“I’ve asked the House-elves to prepare tea for us later,” said McGonagall, “but before we indulge, I suggest we talk about the matter at hand.” She turned to face the wall at the back of the room, where three large oil-paintings hung side by side. The vacant space at the far left of the wall must be where the Wizard’s Wood was usually kept, Harry thought.

They all stepped closer to the painting next to the empty space, where Snape’s Imagic was to be seen standing at a beautiful beach. To Harry’s surprise the Imagic had taken off his robes, shoes and socks. Wearing just a shirt and rolled up trousers he stood so close to the water that every now and then a wave splashed over his bare feet.

“Good afternoon Headmistress, Professor Flitwick, Auror Shacklebolt and Mr Potter, good to see you again,” Snape’s Imagic seemed in a rather good mood and smiled at the humans, who returned his greetings.

“I’ve walked the length of the beach as you suggested, Filius, and was rewarded with this find–“ he pulled a very crumpled piece of parchment out of his trousers’ pocket. “Obviously Headmistresses Da Ponte and Darknight did exactly what we asked them to, they left us a message!”

This news was answered with delighted outcries from Harry and his fellow investigators shouting, “That’s excellent news, Severus!” – “Brilliant!” – “What does it say?”

Snape straightened the parchment and read, “On the back side it says in Amanda Da Ponte’s hand writing

> _’Found this message in a bottle, will follow said dog, intend to return promptly, A+S’._

“Whereas the original message on the front states,” he turned the parchment around and cleared his voice before reading aloud.

> “ _Dear former Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts, whoever finds this bottle, please be assured that I am exceedingly sorry to cause any kind of worry or distress, but it is of the uttermost importance for me to stay in hiding for the time being. Nevertheless I would be delighted to explain myself. Therefore any colleague who is willing to visit at my present place of residence would be most welcome. If you want to see me, please follow the black poodle waiting at the far end of the beach, he will be your guide. Be assured you will be perfectly safe. Yours sincerely, Albus Dumbledore._ ”

“What an outrageous fake!” McGonagall snorted, “Albus would never address his fellwos so ridiculously formal! The choice of words is so very unlike Albus – _‘the uttermost importance’_ – what a pompous expression!” She looked positively appalled.

Flitwick and Kingsley nodded eagerly whereas Harry was not totally convinced. As far as he could remember, Dumbledore had indeed sometimes talked in a rather old-fashioned way.

“I wholeheartedly agree, Minerva” said Snape’s Imagic, “especially as the hand-writing does not fit perfectly as well. Mind you, the forger must be familiar with Headmaster Dumbledore’s writing as there is indeed some likeness – but not enough to convince me.” He held the parchment towards them and Flitwick stepped closer to have a proper look at the artful letters.

He took just one glance and nodded eagerly, “Right you are, Severus, this is clearly not Albus’ hand writing.”

“Stupid, actually, to imply his colleagues would not be able to see the difference,” said Kingsley, “That’s their first mistake! I think we will make some progress soon enough.”

“For Merlin’s sake, I hope we will! Amanda and Serena most certainly were not fooled for a second as well,” said McGonagall, “they knew exactly what they were doing… I trust we will know more, as soon as they get back… it just seems to take them a little longer than we guessed.”

She turned to Harry, “You see, this does not come totally unexpected. If we accept the hypothesis that the perpetrator intends to weaken our security system, it makes sense they try to lure other Imagics away from my office. That is why Professor Flitwick was kind enough to paint quills and parchment for those, who still visit other paintings, so they can at least leave a message before taking the unknown road. We talked it all through and some Imagics volunteered to decoy, Amanda and Serena among them.”

“But what if they do not return? The Headmistresses might have stepped into a hexed painting, making it impossible for them to leave again,” said Harry, “I mean, Dumbledore’s Imagic is obviously unable to come back as well.”

“May I remind you, Mr Potter,” Flitwick explained, ”that Headmaster Dumbledore’s Imagic went amiss at the Ministry, not at Hogwarts, which makes all the difference! In all likelihood he was lured to another painting at the Ministry Archives and someone removed that painting to a place yet unknown. Therefore he cannot return because he’s in the wrong vicinity. To get back into his very own portrait from afar, he would have to be in another portrait of himself, not just in any kind of painting. And as far as we know, there is no other portrait of Albus Dumbledore, than the empty one. The missing Headmistresses on the other hand must still be at Hogwarts. No student or member of staff has left the grounds since they went missing –“

“So that’s why we’re no longer allowed to visit Hogsmeade,” Harry interrupted.

“– exactly. The only member of staff who leaves Hogwarts regularly on weekends is Professor Laddley –to visit his brother, who’s apparently unwell– but we’ve asked him to postpone this week’s visit and he agreed. First he was a bit annoyed but in the end he gave in. Anyway, no painting has left the premises since the Imagics went missing, we are quite certain of that. And we keep watching all the exits of the castle with great care. Therefore Headmistresses Da Ponte and Darknight must still be in some painting at the castle and will be able to come back.”

Flitwick continued with a smug smile, “As for your suggestion of a trap painting– be assured there is no such thing, Mr Potter, trust me. I dare say no living witchard knows more about Magical Arts than I do and I most certainly have never heard of any such hex. I am indeed quite sure it is even impossible to create something like that.”

Harry drew a sharp breath. Flitwick was wrong, of course – there was at least one trap-painting at Malfoy Manor. But how could he share his knowledge without increasing suspicions of Draco? His mind raced. What was he supposed to do now? They obviously had no idea, such a hex existed. Taurus Malfoy must have kept his invention very secret indeed– 

Before Harry had made up his mind what to say, he realized the others were staring at him.

With narrowed eyes McGonagall said, “Out with it, Harry! Whatever it is, even if you are not quite sure whether it is relevant or not, let us hear it! You do trust us, I hope?”

Harry closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “Of course I trust you… all of you! It’s just… I don’t want to incriminate… others.” He opened his eyes again and looked at Flitwick, “I’m very sorry, Professor, but you are wrong. I know for sure, that it is possible to hex a painting in such a way. At least one trap painting exists. In fact, I have seen it with my own eyes. Any Imagic lured into that painting cannot leave.”

“But that is… outrageous!” exclaimed Flitwick. “That would be a serious violation of present law! I simply do not believe this, you must be mistaken, Mr Potter!”

Harry shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Professor.”

“Why in Merlin’s name didn’t you tell us before?” said McGonagall, “If this is indeed possible, our investigation must take a totally different turn! How could you keep such an important piece of information to yourself, Harry?”

“Because I thought you knew!” Harry tried to defend himself. “Even if it’s illegal, I assumed you had at least heard about something like it. Believe me I had no idea, you were totally unaware of this possibility. It never occurred to me that you don’t know about something I know – you are my teachers!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry,” said Kingsley, “we are well aware, that you have encountered many unique and extraordinary displays of magic no other witch or wizard has seen before – you shouldn’t forget that either.”

“We certainly did not know that such a hex exists,” McGonagall said with a stern face, “and that is most unfortunate, because otherwise we would not have encouraged Imagics to explore unknown territory. We were under the impression, as long as no painting was removed from the premises, they would be safe.”

“Well, Headmistress Longbottom had her doubts all along,” Snape’s Imagic said.

McGonagall snorted, “Headmistress Longbottom has doubts just about everything. If I trusted her judgement, I would not leave my bed in the morning.”

Kingsley cleared his voice, “However unfortunate it is that you did not mention this before, Harry, at least we know now. What interests me most: Where is that trap painting you claim to have seen?”

Finally the dreaded question.

Harry drew a deep breath.

“At Malfoy Manor,” he said

After a moment of stunned silence Flitwick cleared his voice. “Well, at least that makes sense. If indeed such a painting exists, it might well be part of the Malfoy collection. They are supposed to own paintings with some truly unique magic and hardly ever show them to the public.”

McGonagall raised one eye-brow and asked, “So, Mr Potter– those ‘others’ you didn’t want to incriminate, that would be Draco Malfoy, I assume?”

Harry flushed and said, “Yeah, Draco… and his mother… and also Josh Jordan.” He realized with a pang, that McGonagall had switched back to using his surname.

“Are you insinuating one member of my department, Auror Jordan, who also happens to be a suspect in this case, knows about that hexed painting as well?” Kingsley raised his voice staring at Harry.

“Yes, Josh… Professor Jordan has seen the painting too.” Harry sighed, “but I am sure – I am totally sure this has nothing to do with the missing Imagics of Hogwarts! Here’s what happened: There was this portrait of Walburga Black at my house –“

“Nasty bit of art, I remember her cursing well enough,” Snape’s Imagic jumped in.

“– and nobody seemed to be able to get rid of her, even the Auror department failed,” Harry stared back at Kingsley. “Well, Ms Malfoy offered to clear the painting for me and I let her. She wanted to do me a favour, because she was grateful for my testimony at the trials… anyway, she came to my house under Auror Jordan’s surveillance and brought that hexed painting along... it shows a feast, a banquet. Then she persuaded that Black woman to switch painting and took the hexed one back to the Manor. And it’s just such a relief to have that screaming wench out of the way!”

“When exactly did that happen?” McGonagall asked. She seemed to have recovered from the initial shock of Harry’s disclosure.

“Must have been in August… I don’t know the exact date. It was a Monday, I remember that much,” said Harry. “You see, it didn’t seem to be such a big deal at that time. And with an Auror present I thought it must be ok… I’m sure Mrs Malfoy isn’t even aware, that the hexed painting is illegal! She never asked me to keep quiet about what she did and she told Josh- ah, Professor Jordan in advance, did it right under his nose! She would never have done that, if she had been afraid of getting Draco or herself into trouble, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Mr Potter” said McGonagall, “you just informed us, that two of our main suspects know about this hex! And you didn’t even find it necessary to tell us about the whole matter right away! One might get the impression you do not care for Hogwarts at all.”

Harry felt a rush of guilt and anger. He shouted, “Whoa, that’s… that is so not true! You know that I care! I care for Hogwarts more than –“

“We know you do, Harry,” said Kingsley, “which makes your behaviour all the more incomprehensible.” He shook his head. “Maybe you do not fully understand why the whole issue of missing Imagics is so important to the school?”

Harry felt deflated. “No, I don’t. You just told me about the whole affair a week ago and said, the collection of Imagics is part of Hogwarts’ security system – but I never really understood how that’s supposed to work.”

“Right.” McGonagall cleared her voice. “I apologize. Maybe we need to start all over again. Let us sit down, shall we? If you don’t mind, Severus?”

“Not at all, Minerva,” said the Imagic, “I’d be delighted, my feet are numb already.” He turned to a bench where he had dropped his robes, socks and shoes.

Harry wondered for a moment how Snape was meant to sit down with them, but then he saw the easel next to several sofas, holding a painting of an empty wing chair in front of a fire place.

 _How clever,_ he thought, _this way the Headmistress can invite any Imagic of Hogwarts to a one-on-one conversation._

As the four humans took a seat, the Imagic sat down in the painted wing chair, fully dressed again to Harry’s relief – Snape’s bare feet had disturbed him nearly as much as McGonagall’s accusations.

“Right, fresh start!” Kingsley said, “How about I treat the whole matter like any other case of the Auror Department? This way Harry even learns a thing or two about our work.” As McGonagall and Flitwick nodded their agreement, he raised his wand and shouted “ _Tabula Incidentia!_ ”

A huge white board appeared in front of them floating in the air. Kingsley, McGonagall and Flitwick all pointed their wands at it and murmured incantations – and in a trice the white board was covered with pictures, words and numbers.

Harry stared at the apparition. They had put all the known facts about the whole affair onto the board. There was a timeline, starting with the removal of the portraits from Hogwarts to the archives up to the present day, pictures of the missing Imagics and of the four suspects and so many remarks that Harry guessed, he needed an hour to read them all. He stepped closer to have a better look.

“Whoa, that’s… cool!” he said grinning again.

“Well, you might want to bring your knowledge along as well, Mr Potter,” said Flitwick, “just point your wand at the board, concentrate on what you know and say ‘ _Indicium!’_ – go on, just try it!”

Harry did as he was told and suddenly new information appeared on the board, squeezing in between the previous writing. There were even some facts Harry had not been consciously aware of, such as the date of Mrs Malfoy’s visit to his house which was Monday the 24th of August. And he had even managed to place a picture onto the board, showing a wizard he had never laid eyes on before! The man was very pale and had ash blonde hair, his forehead was unusually high and he had a piercing stare. Harry was quite certain, they had never met, but he still looked familiar.

“Merlin’s beard! What has Taurus Malfoy to do with our case?” Kingsley said with a frown. “He’s one of the most wanted Death Eaters still on the run! The man was abroad for many years but came back for the final months of the war. We believe him to be responsible for some severe attacks on Muggle villages. As far as we know, he has escaped to the continent after the Battle of Hogwarts. We have some of our best Foreign Affairs Aurors on his trail but with no luck, so far.”

“He’s the artist of the hexed painting,” Harry explained, “Cass told me so. He’s supposed to be very proud of the hex. Painted the thing as a gift for Narcissa Malfoy… messy family affair, you know…” Harry wondered, how much of Cass’ story he needed to disclose.

McGonagall seemed to understand his hesitation. “Harry, _‘Indicium!’_ will produce every necessary fact. Whatever does not appear, will be of no use to the case.” Harry was glad, to be addressed informally again, she seemed to have forgiven him.

“Well, Taurus Malfoy’s involvement is certainly something to be considered,” said Kingsley. “I’ll check immediately, maybe the Ministry has some news concerning his whereabouts.”

McGonagall turned to Kingsley, “Yes, please do so. And thank you, Professor Shacklebolt, for preparing the Magic Board. We should have done that a week ago…” She sighed, “could have saved Amanda and Serena.”

“Are they in danger? In real danger, I mean? Can the Imagics… can they be killed?” Harry asked. He had wondered for a while, why nobody seemed to be worried, that maybe Dumbledore’s Imagic had been destroyed already.

“No, Mr Potter, Imagics are as indestructible as any magical artefact can be,” Flitwick explained, “it would take an immensely strong force to ruin them, a Basilk’s fang for example, or Fiendfyre.”

“Or the sword of Gryffindor,” Harry added.

“Yes, the sword of Gryffindor too could destroy Imagics – how come you know that?” Flitwick was astonished.

“Because that’s exactly what you need to destroy a Horcrux,” Harry said. Turning to Snape’s Imagic he added, “Sorry, Professor Snape, but it seems to me, the essence of an Imagic has some likeness to a Horcrux – no offence.”

“None taken,” said Snape, “in fact, you might have a point there.”

“Don’t be absurd, Severus,” Flitwick protested, “I have created several Imagics and my soul is perfectly intact!”

“Yes, of course it is, because creating an Imagic is an act of compassion. And love always increases when shared, that is why the artist’s soul actually benefits by creating an Imagic. Whereas creating a Horcrux takes the ultimate act of hate –murder– and will rip the soul of the killer apart. In that respect Imagics and Horcruxes are opposites,” Snape said. “But then again– opposites often share some attributes. Both Imagics and Horcruxes incorporate some part of a person’s essence. Both are immortal and nearly indestructible.”

“Nearly indestructible– and that is exactly why the portrait collection of former Headmasters and Headmistresses is so important to the castle’s security, Harry,” McGonagall explained, “If you remember the battle of Hogwarts, how the castle lay in ruins the next morning, broken windows, walls crumbling– why do you think, the Headmaster’s office was still in much better condition than the rest of the building?”

Harry just stared at her. Could the Imagics be that powerful indeed?

“Yes, exactly. The Imagics protected the office. They work like… like cranial bones protecting the brain. We store our most valuable and rare objects in this office –the sword of Gryffindor, the Pensieve, the Sorting Hat and many other unique items– because they are safe there. And of course the Headmaster or Headmistress is protected as well.”

Harry was aghast. Why had nobody told him about the Imagics’ power before! It was perfectly clear now, that the whole affair was far more serious than he had assumed it to be.

McGonagall paused for a second before saying, “Well, I think we earned us a treat. But before I’ll ask for tea, I suggest we all copy the incident board to take it along.”

She addressed Harry, “It’s simple enough. The correct spell to fetch a copy is ‘ _Imitamen_!’ – if you want to look at it later, you’ll just have to use the spell backwards.”

Harry watched the others take their copies first. It was quite fascinating. As soon as someone’s spell hit the board, a transparent silvery surface seemed to be lifted from the board and dived into their wand. He was the last one to try it and his wand hand prickled when the copy entered his wand.

“Now you might try to reproduce it, Harry, to check whether you’ve got everything right,” suggested Kingsley.

Harry nodded. He pointed his wand to the other direction and said, “ _Nematimi_!” His hand prickled once more– the silvery surface reappeared and became solid again. Harry compared his copy to the original incident board and, yes, he had managed to do it perfectly.

“Wow, that’s really cool – how many copies can I store at the same time?” said Harry before he took the copy back into his wand.

“As many as you wish,” said McGonagall, “You just have to concentrate on what you want, when you reproduce it again. I want to add two things, Harry: First – as we have agreed on taking Ms Granger and Mr Weasley into our confidence, you can of course show the board to them. In fact, I would be glad, if Ms Granger took a close look, she might see connections we miss. And if she –or Mr Weasley of course– feel like sharing with the rest of us, they may well add their knowledge to the board. Second – don’t even think about using this spell for your exams, it cannot be done unnoticed.”

Harry blushed, that woman was way too good at reading his mind.

With a single wave of her wand she cleared the original board away. Seconds later a low table appeared in front of them, laid with tea, tiny sandwiches and a variety of cakes.

Looking at Snape Harry thought, ‘ _How very considerate!’_ – because the Imagic had received a painted tea tray too.


	17. Trainer Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the details about witchards in Japan are not my idea but J.K.R.'s - check [https://www.wizardingworld.com/] for further information.

“Oh Harry, what a shame we didn’t know these spells last year, how helpful that would have been hunting down Horcruxes!” Hermione exclaimed.

They were standing in front of Harry’s copy of the Magic Board in his bedroom after Sunday dinner. His friends were deeply impressed.

“Yeah, the Auror department seems to be pretty secretive about their working tools, if even Hermione Granger has never stumbled across their spells,” Ron teased his girlfriend.

“Understandably enough. If criminals don’t know what they are up against, that’ll only be to the A.D.’s advantage,” said Harry.

Ron nodded, turned around and slouched at the sofa.

“Ron Weasley, what do you think you are you doing? Up again, help us sorting through these notes!” Hermione demanded.

“Nope,” said Ron hands crossed behind his head. “I’ve learned my lesson. Never interfere with a brilliant mind, if you can help it. You read along, 'Mione, and make sense of all that, I’ll listen to your summery later.”

Hermione put her hands on her hips. “Ron! This is just…” words failing her, she shook her head and looked outraged.

“Well, he has a point. You are indeed brilliant, Hermione. Everybody knows that. Even McGonagall asked specifically for your opinion on the whole affair.” Harry said.

Hermione blushed but looked rather pleased. “Really, did she? Oh well. I’ll better take the whole thing back to my room anyway – do you think it’s possible to take a copy of the copy?” she mused.

Harry shrugged. “I’ve no idea. Just try it, go on!”

Hermione pulled her wand and said “ _Imitamen_!” – and another silvery copy flew into her wand.

“Looks good to me,” Harry said. “I’ll have a closer look at the whole thing later, want to swim some laps first…”

“Right after dinner?” Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Is that wise?”

Looking at his watch Harry said, “It’ll be about one hour after dinner till I finally dive in, that’ll be ok.” He had missed swimming during the last few days for all that had been going on and desperately needed some physical exercise. It would help him sleep better as well, he thought.

“In that case… how about me and Hermione stay in your room while you work out? She can give us the essentials when you come back… man, I just love your sofa, much more comfortable than ours… I mean, the one in my room,” Ron said.

Harry just grinned and nodded.

***

Fifteen minutes later Harry opened the door to the gym, dropped his robe and towel into one locker and headed for the pool. Yes, the water was his alone, just what he had hoped for on a Sunday night. He mounted his goggles and dived in.

Swimming was pure bliss. Lap after lap he swam crawl which was his preferred style by far. He stopped counting at forty and fell into a meditation of sorts. There was nothing but the water and his body, perfectly able to move along… and again… and again.

He had not tired at all when he realised there was a shadow in the lane next to his. _Must be quite a good swimmer,_ Harry thought, when the shadow stayed close behind him for several laps. Someone from Laddley’s class for sure – or maybe the teacher himself? Just to satisfy his curiosity, Harry skipped the next flip turn and stopped at the railing.

His neighbour was Tommy, the handsome sixth-year with the ginger boyfriend. Harry had spotted them together several times since he had seen them dancing and realized they must be a couple, and a pretty cute one as well. Tommy was far better looking than the chubby redhead, but seemed to adore his lover all the more. When walking together they held hands and seemed totally confident with each other. Harry secretly admired them.

But Tommy had missed Laddley’s swimming class last week, Harry suddenly remembered. He watched Tommy doing two more laps. The guy was really good, maybe even better than Harry and Blaise, who were supposed to be the top swimmers. Why had he stopped attending swimming lessons? And why had he not been picked by Laddley for special training like Harry and Blaise in the first place?

Tommy must have realized that Harry was watching him, as he too stopped at the railing.

“Hi Harry, didn’t know you come here on Sunday evenings as well,” said Tommy, “have been all on my own before. I’m Tommy by the way, Tommy Hillborogh.” He didn’t seem to be out of breath although he had taken the last two laps really fast.

“I know who you are, Tommy,” Harry grinned, “you’re a great swimmer – but I’m telling you nothing new of course. Why did you skip swimming class last week? Bored in your training group are you? How about joining Blaise and me then?”

Tommy turned his eyes away from Harry. “Laddley would never have that.”

“What?” Harry frowned. “I don’t understand why he hasn’t told you to practice with us in the first place – I could even learn a thing or two from you! I’ll ask him – if you want me to?”

“No!” Tommy shouted. “I mean, it’s fine Harry. Just leave it, ok?” He seemed to be really uncomfortable about Harry’s suggestion.

Harry removed his steamy goggles and stared at the other guy. “What is it? What’s happened?”

Tommy squirmed. “Let’s just say Laddley is not my favourite teacher and I’m not his favourite student either.” He cleared his voice. “Fortunately I’m not interested in Muggle studies anyway as I’m Muggle-born myself.” He grinned again.

“You mean to tell me Laddley has a problem with Muggle-borns?” Harry frowned. “But he’s teaching Muggle studies! That’s…”

“No, no worries,” Tommy interrupted, “he’s no racist, at least as far as I can tell.” He sighed, “but he’s got a problem with… queers.” He shot Harry a quick glance to check his reaction. “I’m gay, you know. He must’ve heard about it or maybe he saw me with Tevin, he’s my boyfriend…” His voice trailed off as he waited for Harry’s reaction.

“I know you’re gay, nothing wrong with that.” Harry said with an encouraging smile, “You and Tevin make a really nice couple,” he hesitated for a second and added, “I might even envy you a bit.”

Tommy stared at Harry, “Cool. I mean… are you…?”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat before he said, “I’m gay too, yep.”

He was well aware that this was the first time he told someone outside of the circle of his closest friends. It was quite surprising that nobody had spilled the beans up until today, not even Draco Malfoy who surely must have received the message from Cass by now. But Harry did not want to keep his sexual identity a secret anyway and to tell another queer guy seemed like the easiest way to spread the news. Especially now, with Cass’ motto for the ball and the increased awareness of staff and students alike.

Tommy beamed at Harry, “Wow, that is so cool! Tevin will go crazy! For two years he’s had this fixed idea about you being… – I mean, is it ok if I tell him?”

“Certainly, I don’t intend to live in the closet. So Tevin guessed?” Harry asked with a grin.

Tommy blushed. “Yeah, says he got some vibes… he has this weird idea, that you and… but it’s nonsense of course. Forget I said that.”

Harry shrugged. Funny to hear, that another queer kid had spotted his orientation before he himself had been fully aware of it.

“Back to Laddley. What did he do? Come on, tell me!” Harry insisted.

Tommy cringed again. “He always ridiculed me, made some nasty remarks… plus he complained about my swimming, although I know, I’m not bad.”

“Not bad? Tommy, you’re probably the best swimmer of the school!” Harry said with feeling. “What exactly did he say?”

“Well,” Tommy gulped, “the final straw was him saying, _‘Fags are not supposed to get wet 'cause they’re meant to burn’_ – I really don’t need to hear more of that shit.”

“Tommy!” Harry was outraged. “That is so… that is beyond disgusting, the guy is totally deranged! You have to report him to the Headmistress! You can’t let him get away with this!”

Tommy shook his head.

“Tommy, hear me out… you’re a Gryffindor, right? What would you do, if he had talked like that to some other kid? You’d stand up for them surely?”

“Of course I would, Harry!” Tommy said fiercely, “but he did not. And I can take it, no need to start a fight about it.”

“Oh yes, we need to fight this! Even if you can take it, you shouldn’t have to! And what about the younger kids hearing him talk like that? What kind of message does it send, if we don’t stop him?” Harry pleaded, “And what about some kid still questioning their identity, don’t you think they would never feel safe to come out, if a teacher talks like that?”

Tommy stared at Harry. “Well, if you put it like that… I didn’t think about the consequences… you’re right, of course. Tevin also said, I should report him, you know. But he’s always concerned for my sake, so I didn’t take him seriously.” He paused, then asked, “What do you suggest, Harry?” He looked determined and even smiled a bit.

“Let me think about it, ok? I need to swim some more laps, ‘cause I’m beginning to feel really cold… but I’ll come up with a plan. You’re not alone in this, Tommy, I’ll be right with you, ok?”

***

When Harry opened the door to his room later that evening, the unexpected sight of Hermione and Rom snogging on his sofa stopped him at the threshold. He sighed, “Seriously? Don’t you guys have your own rooms to make out?”

Whereas a slightly dishevelled Hermione removed quickly from her current position on top of her boyfriend, Ron just grinned and stayed on his back.

“May I remind you, Harry, that I’m not a guy,” she said with a flush and pulled her dress straight again, “but I get your point. Sorry, we got a bit carried away.”

“I’m not sorry at all,” Ron said pointedly, “I still hope we can inspire you to find some love interest of your own.”

“Oh, I sure appreciate the effort,” Harry said staring at his best mate. “But unfortunately seeing you two snogging might just have the opposite effect.”

“Ron, Harry doesn’t need to _find_ a love interest,” Hermione said smiling at Harry. “He needs to go for it.”

Harry stared at her with heated cheeks. Did she really– ? How could she know?

“What’s that?” Ron looked confused. “What have I missed? Oh, I get it– you’re talking about Josh. You’re still into him? Inconvenient, falling for a teacher.”

Hermione chuckled. “Let’s change topic, ok? How about I wrap up, what’s to gain from the incident board, shall I?”

Harry glanced at her suspiciously. _Brainy people are not supposed to be super empathic and sensitive as well,_ he thought to himself. He pushed Ron’s legs from the sofa and set down.

“Ok, I’m listening. And I even might have to add something to the board later on,” he said, “I’ve just found out something about Laddley.”

“Oh really?” Hermione said, “That’s great, because there isn't much about Laddley on the board yet. Right, here we go... I don’t want to repeat everything we have already discussed before, just sum up some news. I think, what’s most important is the information on Tharros’ and Laddley’s background.” She stepped closer to the board and pointed at the image of their Transfiguration teacher.

“Nektaria Tharros started to teach right after taking her N.E.W.T. She first went to Durmstrang as an assistant teacher –“

“Durmstrang!” Ron interrupted, “That’s interesting!”

Hermione continued, “– where she trained her outstanding Transfiguration skills to perfection. After winning the International Transfiguring Tournament at the early age of thirty-one –which made her the youngest champion ever– she got a job-offer from Mahoutokoro.” Hermione seemed to be deeply impressed by this fact. “The Japanese witcharding world rarely employs foreign teachers, so this must have been a sensation. Of course, she accepted the offer and went to Japan, where she apparently lived for more than fifty years –she's already in her eighties, can you believe it?– until she finally was called back to Hogwarts this very summer.”

“So that’s why she’s so good at martial arts!” Harry said. “The witchards of the far east are all supposed to be brilliant fighters.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. But she was at Durmstrang, so she’s qualified for prime suspect, if you ask me,” Ron said. “Plus that woman is way too scary anyway.”

“I don’t think so, Ron,” said Hermione. “Her decades of living in Japan speak otherwise. Japanese witchards wear sacred robes, which immediately reveal anyone straying to the dark side of magic – the robes would pale and lose all colour. Whenever this happens to a witchard, they are immediately handed over to the authorities. _‘To turn white’_ they call it, and it’s a serious crime. If Tharros were anything but correct and straightforward, she would still rot in a Japanese prison.”

“Wow. Let’s not go to Japan for our honey-moon, ok?” Ron was shocked.

 _They are already talking about getting married? Well, that’s fast!_ Harry cleared his voice. “Right. If Tharros is innocent, what about Laddley?”

“Interesting enough, just like Tharros he spent many years abroad. And no, Ron, I’ve told you already, I’m not getting married any time soon. At least not before I have found myself a proper job and so should you.” She gave her boyfriend a stern look.

Ron turned to Harry and said, “I try to convince her, before she finds herself an equally brilliant guy… got to move fast. And– ,“ he addressed his girlfriend again, “if we got married, I wouldn’t need a job. I’ve told you, I’d make a brilliant house-hubbie!”

“Wait?” Harry said, “You’re not serious, right? What about starting Auror training together?”

“Let’s face it, I’ll never qualify anyway,” Ron shrugged.

Although Harry was pretty sure, Ron was joking, he feared for his friend’s confidence. Ron was prone to feelings of inferiority. Harry decided to play for a joke instead.

“I don’t even want to dignify that nonsense with a response, but just to make sure: Ron, you’re so sloppy, you would make the worst house-husband ever.” Harry smirked at his best mate and was relieved when he grinned back. “And you know well enough, I need you to work with me, right? Do you honestly think I’m interested in going through that training alone? It’s supposed to be way tougher than Hogwarts! I don’t think I have a chance all by myself.”

Hermione gave Harry a grateful smile.

“Oh, well, if you insist,” Ron mumbled but looked quite pleased again. “So let’s hear about Laddley!”

Hermione pointed at the Muggle Study teacher’s picture. “Gregory Laddley has indeed been working for the same department as your dad, Ron, but not at the London office. He has been a Muggles Liaison officer stationed under cover at the United Nations for several years.”

“United Nations? What’s that?” Ron asked.

“That’s one of the most important international organisations of Muggles, something like a world government, mainly to support peace and human rights worldwide,” Harry explained.

“And what a great job it is doing, right?” Ron said with sarcasm.

“Well, in this respect the witcharding world is not doing such a great job either,” Hermione pointed out. “May I remind you, we’ve only recently ended a war… and we are just a small number of humans compared to Muggles. Anyway, Laddley has been living in New York for a while and after that in Switzerland. As a Muggle Liaison officer he had diplomatic immunity and reported directly to the Minister’s office. That’s why your dad hasn’t heard about him.”

“Sound’s like an exciting career to me,” said Harry. “So why did he accept this position at Hogwarts? Must be a huge down-grade in salary and prestige.”

“Apparently Ministry and School Governors alike wanted to improve the Muggle Studies’ curriculum. They decided Muggle politics were more important than dish-washers after all,” Hermione snorted. “Plus he has the option to become Head of Slytherin, remember? Head of House at Hogwarts– that’s not a bad step for anyone’s career. Anyway, when Laddley answered to the job posting he said, he wanted to stay in Britain _‘for family reasons’_ – in fact, it’s quite tragic. He has a mentally ill brother living permanently at St. Mungo’s. As long as their mother was still alive, Laddley could stay abroad. But she died last spring and now Laddley is the only family member left. He visits his brother every weekend.”

“Yeah, Flitwick said as much…,” Harry nodded, “of course they made him stay at Hogwarts this weekend so he had no chance of sneaking out a painting.”

“Poor chap, must be tough to have a brother like that,” said Ron.

“He might well be a poor chap, but he sure is a mean creep as well,” Harry said and retold Tommy’s story.

There was a moment of shocked silence afterwards. His friends looked as repelled as Harry felt.

“Harry, you must report that incident to the Headmistress immediately!” Hermione cried.

“Yeah, that would be one way of dealing with the situation… but what if Laddley simply denies that he ever said something like that and then it’s Tommy’s word against a teacher’s? And we don’t want to involve other kids by asking them to confirm what they might have heard.”

Ron nodded, “I see your point, but you still can’t let Laddley get away with something like that!”

“No worries, he’s not going to get away with it – Tommy and I have a plan…” Harry said.


	18. Shades of Dray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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Harry and Tommy indeed had a plan. They had decided on provoking Laddley to gay-bash again in front of the most reliable witness– in front of Harry Potter. Nobody in his right mind would challenge Harry’s testimony.

Of course they had discussed other options as well, like Tommy offering to recount his previous experience under the influence of Veritaserum. But the use of this potion was restricted to Ministry enquiries only and if the Ministry officials were informed, the whole matter would blow up, which Tommy preferred to avoid. Harry had reasons of his own, why he didn’t want the Ministry involved, as he feared for the Imagic enquiry’s confidentiality.

That is why they had ended up with their plan. It only could go wrong, if Laddley failed to repeat his foul talking because of the schools increased awareness of diversity issues. Maybe he wouldn’t have harassed Tommy in the first place, if Cass had given her speech some weeks before. In a way they gave Laddley another chance to correct his behaviour– and Harry was not quite sure, whether that was generous or way too soft-hearted. They had not even decided on how to proceed should Laddley behave himself.

The trap was to be set right before Harry’s and Blaise’s next special training lesson, which was scheduled for late Wednesday afternoon. Therefore Harry was a bit distracted at the beginning of Wednesday’s last lesson which happened to be Charms. He took his usual seat at the back of the class next to Neville.

For some reason he preferred this place to sitting with Ron and Hermione up front. Of course this had nothing to do with Draco’s seat right in front of him. Although Harry had to admit that he spent a good time of each lesson studying a certain elegant neckline and shining blond hair instead of paying attention.

Today was not much different. Harry trusted Neville to elbow him, in case he was about to miss something essential. Harry gave his neighbour a glance. Did he guess why Harry was rather absentminded? Well, Harry could not help it. At least Neville never made obnoxious comments like Blaise, who had lately started to tease Harry during swimming lessons quite a bit. Which was totally embarrassing, but at least Draco didn’t hear any of it. Harry just hoped Blaise would not broadcast his suspicions… although knowing Blaise that seemed rather inevitable.

Harry sighed. Immediately Draco turned around with raised eyebrows – and Harry focused on Professor Flitwick for a change.

Today’s lesson was about various ways of changing the size of stuff. Harry was reminded of little Teddy effortlessly growing and shrinking his tiny baby-nose… Teddy must have grown so much since Harry had last seen him. He sighed again and Draco snarled over his shoulder, “Stop distracting me, Potter!”

Blaise chuckled and whispered, “Have mercy, Malfoy, he can’t help it, poor sod…”

 _Oh fuck, there he goes,_ Harry winced silently and tried to concentrate on the lesson.

After tedious repetitions Professor Flitwick finally got the class’ full attention when he said, “As I have promised you, we will also work on your Halloween costumes during the next few lessons. It will give us an excellent opportunity to explore the fine line between Charms and Transfiguration. Both subjects include spells which can change looks in a distinct way. Can anyone define the significant difference between these subjects concerning appearances?”

To nobody’s surprise Hermione’s hand shot up.

“Yes, Ms Granger?”

“Charms can change the features of an object or person and also the impression they will make on others, whereas to change the very substance, the identity of an object or person, Transfiguration is required.”

“Exactly Ms Granger, very well put. Can you give us an example? Preferably concerning clothes?”

Hermione smiled, “Let’s say, I wanted to have a mauve silk dress instead of my cotton blue-jeans. In that case I would first need to transfigure them into a silk dress, but the dress would still be blue. To change the colour I would need to use _Mutatiumbra_ which is a Charms spell of course.”

Flitwick nodded eagerly, “Ten points to Gryffindor, Ms Granger, well done. That is exactly what we will practice today, changing the colour of fabric by use of _Mutatiumbra_. Let me have a look… ah, excellent, just as I had hoped for, Mr Malfoy is wearing a white shirt again…”

“Nothing wrong with a plain white shirt, I should think,” Draco said and the other students grinned, as Draco nearly always wore white shirts and black trousers under his robes.

“Not at all, Mr Malfoy, quite the contrary. Please remove your robes and join me at the front– thank you.”

Harry was fully attentive now. He sat straight and watched closely as a slightly uncomfortable Draco Malfoy stepped next to Flitwick, who continued, “Mr Malfoy will be so kind as to be our canvas for today’s lesson.”

“You want me to sit on an easel too, Professor?” Draco asked with raised eye-brows.

“No, that won’t be necessary, Mr Malfoy, same as your sarcasm.” Flitwick replied and Draco blushed.

“I want you all to practice _Mutatiumbra_ and switch the colour of Mr Malfoy’s shirt to whatever you like,” Flitwick explained. “Because it’s easiest to start with a white object, we will use this item of fabric. I think Ms Granger has earned herself the first go– please join us at the front.”

Hermione stepped next to Draco and Flitwick asked her, “I assume you know how to proceed? You might want to explain it to your fellows?”

Hermione nodded and said, “First I concentrate on a mental image of the colour I aim for and then –,“ she pointed her wand, shouted, “ _Mutatiumbra_!” and in an instant Draco’s shirt turned a lovely shade of mauve, which suited him not too bad, Harry thought.

“Oh, well,” Draco said looking at his sleeves, “at least it doesn’t hurt. Nice colour, Hermione, although it’s rather yours than mine.” He smiled at her.

“That is a very clever remark, Mr Malfoy– it needs a good eye to spot the right colour for any object or person. Five points to Slytherin for that observation. Can all of you students see what Mr Malfoy is referring to? I want you to judge your results not only in terms of precision but in respect of suiting Mr Malfoy’s complexion.” Flitwick turned to Hermione, “Thank you Ms Granger, you can sit down now.” Then he cleared the colour away with a swift move of his wand and asked Hannah Abbott to go next.

Hannah went for her favourite bright peach and everybody agreed, Draco looked quite horrible in it. Even worse was Neville’s choice of military green.

“Merlin, he looks like he might throw up any second!”, Neville had to admit.

Ron dressed Draco in dark blue, which did not look bad, if a bit boring and student after student tried their talent.

Harry became more nervous by the minute– he had to find the perfect colour for Draco and fast. When it was his time to practice, Harry gulped and went to the front. Strangely enough the whole class fell silent. Draco looked at him expectantly and Harry closed his eyes. The only colour that came to his mind was the one he had chosen for his bedroom at Number Twelve, _‘_ Duck Egg’ the painter had called it. Oh well, he did not want to consider what his subconscious was telling him.

Harry opened his eyes and shouted “ _Mutatiumbra_!”

“Wow!” and “Ah!” the other students exclaimed. Harry had picked the perfect colour indeed. Draco looked absolutely stunning. The pale bluish green made his eyes shine brighter and his complexion seemed to glow – until he looked right into Harry’s eyes and both of them blushed violently.

“Well done, Mr Potter, you seem to have quite an artist’s eye for colour,” Flitwick said admiring Harry’s choice before he turned the shirt white again. “Who’s next?”

Harry sat down, heart pounding. Had he given away his feelings for Draco? And if so, was that good or bad? Before he could make up his mind, Blaise stepped to the front. He was the last one to practice.

Blaise winked at Draco, pointed his wand, boomed the spell – and Draco’s shirt turned a vivid pink. “Sorry, mate!” Blaise grinned, “couldn’t resist!”

“You’ll pay for that!” Draco snorted. But actually, the bright colour suited him quite well, Harry thought.

“Now you might try yourself, Mr Malfoy,” Flitwick charmed Blaise’s pink away and added, “just point the wand at your shirtsleeve, yes, that’ll do.”

Draco’s choice was very close to Harry’s, just a hint greener, the effect was still very much the same.

“Very good choice, Mr Malfoy,” Flitwick said, “you want to keep it that way?”

When Draco nodded, Flitwick turned to the class at large and said, “Homework: practice with pieces of white fabric and try to find three shades that really suit yourselves. To clear colours away, use _‘Inficiatque!’_ – you might want to write that down. Have a good evening!”

As they were now free for the rest of the afternoon, most students were in a hurry to leave. Harry cleared his desk and tried to focus on the next task at hand. He looked at his watch– still one hour until swim training would start, that should do.

Hermione and Ron were waiting for him as usual and Draco also seemed reluctant to leave before Harry did.

“Hey, Harry!” Ron shouted, “Brilliant choice you’ve made – but you know what? That colour you’ve picked reminds me of your –“

With one swift motion Hermione pulled Ron’s head down and drowned his words with a kiss. Harry was ever so grateful.

“Nice choice indeed, Mr Potter,” said Draco and his smile was genuine and so warm that Harry’s heart beat faster. “Looks as if you’ve done part of my home-work already.”

“Yeah, glad to be of service,” Harry grinned back, “but I actually liked Blaise’s colour as well.”

“Seriously?” Draco looked surprised.

Hermione let go of her boyfriend’s lips and added, “I totally agree. Not many people can wear pink without looking cheap. But on you, it looked quite classy. Although I would suggest a lighter shade.” And with that final remark she took a very stunned looking Ron by the hand and left with her boyfriend in tow.

They were alone. Draco still hadn’t put on his robes again and seemed to quietly admire his shirtsleeves. Harry was suddenly nervous, his whole body itched. He had never felt like that when being alone with Draco during their morning routine at the common room. Why was that? He needed to say something, anything to break that awkward silence.

“May I ask you something?” he finally blurted.

Draco stared expectantly at Harry, bit his lower lip and nodded.

“When you told me to be careful around Laddley, you refused to tell me what exactly I had to watch out for,” Harry said. “Well, as it happens I might have found out by my own. He’s… very intolerant? About diversity issues? Is that it?”

Draco suddenly looked deflated and alarmed at the same time. He took a step back and slipped into his robes. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. Or one could simply say he’s a homophobic arse. What did he do to you?”

“Nothing!” Harry said, “It’s got nothing to do with me! Laddley harassed… someone else and I’m trying to help him.”

“Who is it?” Draco asked with narrowed eyes.

“Just a guy from the swim team. Tommy, Tommy Hillborough, he’s –“

“ – a sixth-year Gryffindor, I know him,” Draco snorted. “Always the shining saviour, aren’t you, Potter?” And he turned abruptly and left.

Harry was totally confused. What had that been about? Just seconds ago he had felt really close to Draco, hardly managed to breathe – and in the next moment, Draco stormed off with a biting remark. He sighed and headed for the Guest House to drop off his books and change for swimming. At least one question had been answered, a question that had bothered Harry for some time now: Draco definitely knew that Harry was gay. Why else had he warned Harry about Laddley?

Well, Harry had told Cass weeks ago that she could tell Draco about it, so it was to be expected. But still… at each of their early morning encounters Harry had been waiting for Draco’s comment, for being teased about it or any kind of confirmation the message had been received. Maybe it simply didn’t matter to Draco that much? Harry compared Draco’s silence to Tommy’s excited reaction. Straight people probably didn’t find this news as interesting as other queers, he concluded.

***

Half an hour later Harry sat comfortably in a deck-chair near the pool, wearing swimming trunks, a robe – and his Invisibility Cloak. He was waiting all by himself, as the pool was reserved for special training at this hour. Having nothing better to do, Harry relived his last conversation with Draco again and again, trying to make sense of it without much success.

He watched the hands of the clock above the entrance door. The training was supposed to begin in twenty minutes. Laddley was a creature of habit and always came timely before the lesson started to prepare training equipment, check the water’s temperature and cleanness. He must appear any minute now.

Tommy and Harry had decided to trap their teacher well before training started, preferably before Blaise turned up (which shouldn’t be a problem as Blaise was notoriously late). They assumed Laddley would be more likely to freak out if he believed himself to be all alone with Tommy. Harry wondered, whether Tommy was nervous? It hadn’t looked like it, when they had talked briefly some minutes ago. The sixth-year student had given a very composed and mature impression before withdrawing to the locker room.

Finally the door opened and Gregory Laddley came in, pulling a cart with training fins, pull buoys and hand paddles. He left the cart near Harry’s deck-chair and kneeled down to check the water’s temperature.

“Good evening, Professor Laddley,” said Tommy. He was wearing nothing but his swimming trunks and seemed totally relaxed. His timing could not have been better. Laddley was already startled by his unexpected appearance and being on his knees in front of his least favourite student did not improve his mood.

Laddley struggled to his feet and shouted, “What the hell are you doing here, Hillborogh?” His face had turned an unpleasant shade of red.

“Well, I wanted to ask you, if I might join this training session with Potter and Zabini?” Tommy smiled politely and seemed totally oblivious of Laddley’s temper.

“You freak!” Laddley hissed. “You are not only a pervert but stupid as well! Haven’t I made it perfectly clear to you that I want none of your sorts in my pool?”

“Oh.” Tommy looked a bit disappointed. “Sorry. I guessed, I might not have heard you correctly before, Professor. With all the noise in the pool, having water in my ears, you know? I just thought, I might have misunderstood… what sorts of people exactly don’t you want in that pool?”

Laddley stared at Tommy. “Are you making fun of me, kid? Or are you really that dumb? Well, I can certainly spell it out, if you need me to! I want no fucking poofter in my pool! Have you got it? Or do I have to shove this information up your freaking arse?”

Harry had heard more than enough. Adrenalin and hot anger were flushing his body. He removed the cloak, stood up and said, “Thank you Tommy, that was very brave of you!” Then he stepped closer to face his teacher.

Laddley’s face was strained. “Mr Potter,” he hissed, “what are you doing here? I might have lost it a bit, but you must understand… you sure don’t want to swim close to a homosexual either, right?” He gave Harry a pleading look before addressing Tommy again, “You piss off, Hillborogh, and Mr Potter and I will pretend, this conversation never happened, as long as we don’t see your face near the pool anymore, right?”

Harry just stared at Laddley. “Seriously? You think, this is what’s going to happen?” He shook his head. “No, Professor Laddley, think again. Hogwarts is a school with a strict anti-harassment policy and I will do anything to keep it that way.”

Laddley’s face lost all colour, “No! You can’t…”

“Oh yes, I can and I will with great pleasure! I will report your outrageous behaviour to the Headmistress immediately and I sincerely hope I don’t have to see _your_ face near the pool anymore– or anywhere else for that matter!” Harry shouted.

“Mr Potter, hear me out,” Laddley pleaded, “I know you like to stand up for people in need, for minorities and such… but this is different! You might not know any homosexuals… you have no idea, what people of his kind can do!” He pointed at Tommy. “Homosexuals– they corrupt innocent minors, they destroy families, they-”

“Enough!” Harry shouted. His anger must have released some wandless magic because suddenly Laddley was not to be heard anymore, although his mouth was still moving, a bit fish-like in fact.

“I’ve heard quite enough indeed. It might even be funny, Professor Laddley, were it not so sad. You are mistaken, I do know homosexuals. In fact you might be surprised to learn, that I myself am gay – and quite proud of it.”

Laddley’s mouth fell open and stopped moving altogether.

At the very same time Blaise Zabini entered the pool area and boomed, “What’s that? Harry Potter is gay? You’ve finally made it official? Good for you, Harry! Any chance of hooking up with me? In that case I might even consider joining your team.” He laughed and wriggled his eye-brows at Harry. “What a brilliant plot twist, superhero!”


	19. Essential Human Rights

Of course Harry and Tommy wanted to talk to the Headmistress as soon as possible. But first they needed to get properly dressed and then they had to wait at the foot of the enchanted staircase for an awfully long time because McGonagall was not in her office. When she finally returned and they told her what had happened today, she was as shocked and appalled as was to be expected and wanted to hear Tommy’s full story.

Harry pitied her quite a bit. All the changes at school, the missing Imagics and now the trouble with Laddley as well – her first year as Headmistress was running anything but smoothly. Would the Board of School Governors hold her responsible for having accepted someone as unfit for teaching as Laddley? Harry sincerely hoped she would not be in trouble.

 _Maybe it’s not going to be that bad,_ Harry thought, _at least she looks calm enough._

“Thank you, Mr Hillborogh and Mr Potter for informing me of this appaling incident. I will take matters into my hands now.” She looked as composed as ever. “Be assured I do not doubt your report for a second. But I hope you understand, that I have to hear Professor Laddley’s point of view too, before appropriate action can be taken.”

Harry and Tommy nodded, they had expected nothing else. 

“But first I have to ask you,” McGonagall continued, “do you want to be present, when I talk to him or would you prefer to avoid this? The decision is entirely yours, of course. If you decide to stay, you’ll have to be prepared for some unpleasantness. On the other hand we cannot rule out the possibility that Mr Laddley finds it in him to regret and apologize.” She looked expectantly at them.

“It’s up to you, Tommy,” Harry said turning to the younger student. “If you want to stay, I’ll be right with you of course – but we really don’t have to. You’ve heard quite enough hateful words already, I’ll totally understand, if you don’t want any more of this.”

Tommy looked determined. “No, it’s alright, I want to hear what he has to say. And he might be tempted to deny what he did, if we’re not present – I’m not going to make it easier for him.”

The Headmistress smiled and nodded. “Gryffindors,” she said proudly.

Silently she conjured a Patronus and sent her cat-shaped messenger down the stairs. They were all rather surprised, when mere seconds later her Patronus reappeared with Laddley hard on the cat's paws.

Laddley must have been waiting downstairs, expecting her call, Harry guessed. The Muggle Studies teacher looked extremely embarrassed. His face was flushed and his forehead sweaty.

“Good evening, Headmistress,” Laddley said before he turned towards the students and added, “Mr Potter, Mr Hillborogh.”

“Good evening, Professor Laddley,” said McGonagall calm as ever. “Let’s not beat about the bush. Mr Hillborogh and Mr Potter reported your behaviour to be most outrageous and totally unfit for any human being in his right mind, let alone for a teacher of Hogwarts. I need to hear in your own words what you have to say about this. But be aware I will not tolerate the slightest verbal abuse or prejudiced talk in this room. This school has a strict policy of anti-discrimination and I will not permit any student or teacher alike to violate these principles. I will not have it, do you understand?” She gave Laddley a piercing look.

Laddley nodded. “Yes, of course. Thank you for hearing me out, Headmistress. I won’t deny what I said –,“ he gestured at Tommy and Harry without looking at them, “it was very rude and I apologize. I shouldn’t have said that. If you consider keeping me at Hogwart’s –and I am perfectly aware that you might not– I can assure you, I will never say anything like that again. It won’t happen, I swear.”

“Glad to hear it, Professor Laddley,” McGonagall answered and paused.

 _She cannot seriously let him get away that easily,_ Harry wondered.

“But,” the Headmistress continued, “that is not enough. Changing your behaviour will be a necessity of course, if you want to stay at this school permanently – but I repeat: it is not enough. If you just _pretend_ to agree with our values and principles without actually sharing them, this will not do. I need to trust my staff and I cannot trust you, if I know you to be prejudiced and ignorant about essential human rights. Because this is at the core of the matter – the belief humans are equals no matter what. Whether Muggle, Witchard or Squib, whether female, male or any other gender, whether black, white or any other skin colour, whether heterosexual, homosexual or bisexual… just everyone.”

Laddley paled suddenly. “But the freedom of mind is also a human right, I should think! You cannot seriously expect me to –”

“I expect you to be open-minded and willing to learn, Professor,” McGonagall interrupted. “Sometimes teachers need to learn a thing or two as well, you know. Let me sum up the options you have: You can hand in your resignation and be assured, I will accept it immediately. That would be the easiest solution for all of us, but I doubt it to be the best one. I don’t like any person –teacher or student alike– to leave Hogwarts with the kind of mind-set you seem to have at the moment. The crucial question remains, are you willing to change, Professor Laddley?” She looked at him expectantly.

“But Headmistress –you have to understand– I have good reasons, my brother…” Laddley stammered and was interrupted again.

“Oh, I am quite sure you have reasons for your present opinion, but I don’t think they are good reasons! Let me be clear: If you want to stay, there are two things I need you to agree with. First – change your behaviour immediately. Second – be willing to change your mind as well. I know this is not something to be done in an instant. It will take time and effort. If you are willing to change, I will take care of appropriate arrangements to support your healing – because in my eyes you suffer from homophobia, which is a serious disease, Professor Laddley. Talking regularly with a qualified person might help you immensely, not only for the imminent situation but for all areas of your life.”

She regarded Laddley with much concern. “Hating any of our fellow human beings will not only eventually hurt others but the hater as well. Hate is a very heavy burden nobody needs to carry. It might be very relieving to share your burden by talking about it. I should be very glad, should you be ready to recover – but I cannot force you of course.” McGonagall paused and drew a golden watch from the pocket of her robe. “You have twenty-four hours to consider your options, Professor Laddley. I want you in my office tomorrow at six p.m. right before dinner to hear your decision. Your lessons are cancelled forthwith and you may not leave the castle until then. That is all for now, thank you.”

Laddley stared at her, he looked positively dumbfounded. Then he murmured something that might have been ‘Good evening’ and left.

McGonagall turned towards the students. “Well, this went rather well. I assume you would have preferred me to give him notice him right away? Trust me – that would just enable him to feel like a victim and we cannot want that. Now the decision is his to make… and we have time to prepare, should he decide to leave.” She gave Harry a meaningful look and he knew exactly what she was hinting at. If Laddley decided on leaving, they would need to make sure no painting containing an Imagic was removed from the premises with him.

Harry just nodded and Tommy said, “It’s ok. I don’t think he’ll accept your offer anyway– he’s so full of hatred…”

“That is exactly why I don’t feel comfortable in letting him go anywhere else. For him this is a huge chance. The question is will he take it?” She looked again at her watch and sighed. “I’m afraid we have missed today’s dinner. I will ask the House-elves to serve some light supper for you in the Gryffindor common room.”

***

Half an hour later Harry and Tommy munched their way through a variety of dishes in front of the Gryffindor common room’s fire-place. Kreacher had rejoiced in the opportunity to prepare his master’s favourites and delivered the food in person. The House-elf was still wearing the fake locket Harry had presented to him a year ago and beamed at Harry with much devotion.

“Thank you, Kreacher,” Harry said and took a bite from the kidney-pie, “mhhh... excellent... everything's delicious! You can go back to the kitchen now.”

“Very well, Master Harry Potter Sir,” Kreacher squeaked with a deep bow. “If Master wants anything else from the kitchen, anytime – Kreacher will prepare it.” He disappeared with a significant ‘Bang!’

“I didn’t know you had your personal House-elf at Hogwarts!” said Tommy deeply impressed.

“Well… I sort of inherited him, he came with my house, so to speak,” as always Harry felt uncomfortable about admitting to the fact of having a House-elf.

“I even tried to set him free after the war without success. I offered him a t-shirt but he ignored it. Hermione thinks, he’s been in service for so long, that he’s unable to live without a master.” He sighed. “I’ve told him to stay at Hogwarts so he has some company of his own kind at least. He’s been lonely for many years and I don’t really need him at London.”

“Wow, that’s very considerate,” said Tavin. Tommy’s boyfriend was as excited as all of the younger Gryffindors about Harry Potter joining them for once. They had cheered and whistled, when he and Tommy had entered. Even the Fat Lady had obviously been very pleased to see Harry again, as she had swung open without even asking for a password.

Of course everybody wanted to know, why Harry and Tommy had missed dinner, but they managed to side-step all questions without giving anything away. They had promised McGonagall to keep the whole matter secret. If Laddley left, everybody would know soon enough what had happened. Both of them didn’t think it very likely, that he might stay, but if he was indeed willing to change, he would need a fair chance.

Tavin sat close to his lover and every now and then he would sneak a bite from Tommy’s plate. “It’s so, so cool, to see you here, Harry,” he said beaming at Harry, “I bet you don’t miss the noise and turmoil of it all, but it’s great to have you back!”

Harry grinned. He was actually quite fond of the atmosphere. The room was hopelessly overcrowded, because the news of his presence had drawn every student down from the dormitories. Some overexcited first-years had even hugged Harry and seemed close to climbing on his lap, which really touched him. Had he and his friends really been so tiny just a few years ago? It was hard to believe.

Basically every single student of Gryffindor except the eighth-years was present. Ginny and Cass sat next to Harry, cuddled together in one arm-chair.

“Yeah, it’s so nice to be here again,” Harry said, “though the Guest House’s common room is great and much more quiet of course, it’s good to see you all. Maybe I’ll drop by once in a while? If that’s ok with you?”

The younger students responded with loud hurrahs and much cheering until suddenly the door swung open again and Professor Tharros stepped in. Within seconds the room fell silent.

“Good evening, Gryffindors,” she said. “I came to see what all this noise was about – well, it’s very good of you to visit, Mr Potter. Your house has missed you.”

Harry was deeply impressed by the effect her natural authority had on the students. She looked content and calm, even friendly, but still nobody in his right mind would disobey her. Including Harry.

“Good evening, Professor,” he said, “I just promised to come again soon. It’s really nice to be back.” He smiled at her and was rewarded with a miniature smile in return.

“Fine.” Turning to the room at large she added, “Mr Potter will be even more eager to return, if he can eat his supper in peace tonight!” Immediately the students backed away from their table and some even retreated upstairs.

She addressed Harry again, “The Headmistress has informed me about you and Mr Hillborogh having a late dinner for some reason. She also asked me to tell you, that she has spoken to Mr Zabini but it might have been a bit too late. You understand what that’s supposed to mean, I assume?”

Harry and Tommy nodded.

“Good. Because I do not have the slightest idea.” She seemed to be highly amused by that fact. Turning to leave she added, “I bid you all a good night, Gryffindors. Don’t stay up too late. Just in case of an impromptu Transfiguration test tomorrow.”

Everybody groaned at that prospect, which seemed to entertain her even more.

As soon as she had closed the door, Tavin said, “An impromptu Transfig’ test? Seriously? She’s the worst! I bet she won’t even do that tomorrow, she just enjoys winding us up! One hell of a Transfig’ teacher – she sure knows how to transfigure good mood into strained anticipation!”

They all laughed. It wasn’t the first joke Tavin had cracked this evening, he seemed to be really witty. Harry totally understood why Tommy was smitten by his boyfriend. The way Tommy and Tavin looked at each other pulled at Harry’s heart. Would he ever find someone equally devoted?


	20. Cyclopedia of Mean Arts

“Wow, guys and girls – we have to split you up, you’re far too many to get into the pool all at once!” Harry shouted over the crowd.

At breakfast McGonagall had informed all of the students that Professor Laddley was unwell. Muggle Studies was cancelled and today’s swimming lesson was to be held by Blaise, Tommy and Harry instead. She had asked them to step in mere minutes before that announcement, which had increased the popularity of swimming apparently.

“They are all here to lay eyes on my immaculate body wrapped in nothing but a speedo, of course,” Blaise said with a grin, slapping his naked belly. Harry and Tommy laughed, they had decided on wearing T-shirts with their trunks for the lesson.

As Blaise was very fond of gossip he had already told several people about Harry’s conflict with Professor Laddley before the Headmistress had asked for his discretion. He didn’t even known what exactly had happened and wasn’t fully aware of Tommy’s involvement, but still rumours spread among the students like wildfire.

Blaise had also spilled the beans about Harry’s outing, hence Harry had received quite a number of adoring looks from guys all day long, whereas some girls seemed to have fallen into deep mourning.

 _Weird_ , Harry thought, _why does it make a difference to people I’ve never even spoken to?_ It would take him a while to get used to that kind of public recognition.

For the moment they had to deal with an overcrowded pool area as about twice as many students wanted to join the swimming lesson today than usual. Quite a number of them had probably come to show their loyalty towards Harry and not because of their sudden interest in swimming.

After a short consultation with his fellow instructors, Harry clapped his hands. The crowd fell silent immediately. _Just like the Gryffindors yesterday evening when Tharros turned up,_ Harry thought, _do they really respect me as much?_

“Okay, listen, here's what we'll do... we start with the regular swimmers. Blaise will work with the first group, beginners in lanes one to three. I will supervise the second group, next level swimmers in lanes four to six. Which leaves lanes seven and eight for advanced swimmers, who will be instructed by Tommy.” The regulars cheered and dived, climbed or dropped into their respective lanes and Harry raised his voice some more.

“To all the newcomers – sorry you have to wait a bit, be assured you are nevertheless very welcome! For now your job is to watch the three groups and consider where you might fit in. We will have the regulars leave in about forty minutes today, than it’ll be your turn.”

Blaise took over, his voice filled the hall easily enough, “Okay, all groups begin by swimming laps to warm up for ten minutes in whatever style they want – starting now!”

Harry had picked the easiest job for himself. The beginners needed to be watched most carefully of course and the advanced swimmers were eager for instructions, but his students basically would do whatever he told them without too much fuss. He was watching them warming up, when the door opened again and another group of students arrived, led by Josh Jordan.

Blaise glanced over as well and shouted, “Look who’s here! The runners have arrived!”

Josh looked amazing, just like a sports model. His trunks and tank-top were fire-fighter red and made his skin glow. He was surrounded by a bunch of guys including Draco Malfoy. The sudden sight of Draco’s pale slender body in nothing but black swimming trunks was quite distracting. Harry gulped and walked towards them, addressing Josh.

“Welcome, Professor Jordan, what a surprise! We’ve just started,” and Harry told them about the arrangements for the newcomers.

"Sounds good to me," said Josh, then he addressed his students, “You've heard what Mr Potter said, so we have to be patient... if you don’t want to wait, you can go to the gym instead, just like the others have done.”

Then he turned to Harry, “The weather is too gruesome today, so we decided to stay indoors instead of cross country running.” Smiling at Harry he added, “Everything under control, Professor Potter?” – and he even winked.

Harry murmured, “Yeah, thanks Professor Jordan. I… I’d better get back to my group.” He couldn’t help noticing that Draco did not look at him, but stared at Tommy. In fact, Draco seemed rather annoyed. Disturbingly handsome of course, but still annoyed

Hurrying back to his position close to the pool Harry tried to compose himself by focusing on his task at hand. Group two swimmers were doing well enough. One fourth-year boy stood out, he was far better than the others of Harry’s group. After a short consultation with Tommy, Harry called him to the railing and squatted down.

“Eric, what are you doing in my group? Don’t you usually swim with the advanced guys? Come on, move to Tommy’s lanes!” Eric blushed, switched lanes and had of course no problem keeping up with the advanced swimmers.

Eric was one of those guys, who had given Harry meaningful looks in the course of the day. Come to think of it - just like some runners from Josh’s class, mostly those who had now turned up at the pool.

 _Well,_ Harry thought glancing at the runners, _if they all claim to be level two swimmers, just because they want to be in my group, they are in for a surprise._

This time his eyes met Draco’s, who seemed to hesitate for a second before he walked towards Harry and asked, “What in Merlin’s name has really happened between you, Hillborogh and Laddley? The rumour mill is doing overtime. Did Laddley insult you? Did you hex him?”

Harry raised his eyebrows, “Excuse me? You refused to recount what you know about Laddley in the first place! And now you expect me to explain what has happened? Forget it, it’s confidential… as I’ve told you already, Laddley wasn’t going after me – I’m merely helping Tommy.”

Draco snorted, “And I’m sure he’s mighty grateful for it!”

“What’s that even supposed to mean? And another thing – if I had hexed a teacher, I'd be in detention and not giving lessons.”

“Or you might just get away with it, wouldn’t you?” Draco smirked.

“Come off it! What’s the matter with you? You make it sound as if I were teacher’s pet!”

“Teacher’s pet, exactly. Maybe not Laddley’s, but – “, Draco pointedly looked at Josh, “most certainly his.”

Harry was outraged, “What? Josh never ever favours anyone in his class – “

“Oh, ‘ _Josh_ ’ you are calling him already? That figures.” Draco snorted, “Well, he might not favour you during lessons but – “

“You are beyond ridiculous! What is wrong with you?” Harry shouted, “I don’t get it! We’re fine for weeks and suddenly you behave as if… as if we were still sixth-years and nothing had ever changed since then! You barely talk to me in the morning or at mealtime and now you’re making up stuff about Jo–… about Professor Jordan – ”

“Maybe I just don’t like having your gay fans around, superhero!” Draco hissed.

“Fuck you! Stop calling me a superhero once and for all! And about me being gay – Cass told you weeks ago, didn't she? So you better get used to it!” Harry was outraged.

Draco gasped. “Seriously? You think I’ve got a problem with you being gay?” He stared at Harry. “That is… beyond absurd. I’m just not used to your gay fan-club! I’m ever so sorry, but I don’t enjoy the attention you draw to our group… or to our table as much as you do!”

“ _I enjoy this?_ You’ve got to be kidding me! I’ve never ever enjoyed public attention! But over the years I’ve learned to bear it until it ebbs away eventually. It always does – ”

Harry suddenly realized all his swimmers were gathered at the railing close to where he and Draco were having their shouting match. They were actually gawping at Harry and Draco, which irritated Harry quite a bit.

“What’s up? Why have you stopped?” he asked them.

“Blaise just called. Ten minutes are over… we don’t know what to do next,” said the youngest of his group, a tiny girl called Christie.

“Right. Sorry,” Harry said feeling suddenly awkward, “I’m afraid I got a bit carried away… we’ll start with your arm work. Ten laps with paddles, five crawling, five breaststrokes, ok?”

He threw hand-paddles into the water.

Suddenly Christie chirped, “Harry, when you fight with Draco, you sound just like my mum and dad!” and she beamed at them.

Harry’s embarrassment reached an all-time high, but Draco just rolled his eyes and said, “Glad to make you feel at home.”

Most of his students chuckled but one look at Harry’s annoyed face made them quickly start swimming again.

His fight with Draco had not only amused his students, but also raised Josh’s attention.

“What’s going on?” Josh asked stepping closer, “Everything okay, Harry?”

Before Harry had even a chance to respond, Draco said with a sneer, “Now that you have come to his rescue, Professor, I’m sure ‘ _Harry’_ is totally fine!” and having said that he turned to leave.

“Watch your tone, Mr Malfoy! And where do you think you’re going?” Josh raised his voice as well, “you’re still a student of my class for the next hour!”

“I know!” Draco shouted back, “I’m going to the gym! You, Professor Jordan, gave us the option to choose between swimming and working out at the gym. Well, I’ve changed my mind, okay?”

“Very well.” Josh exhaled deeply. “You’re good to go.”

As soon as Draco was out of earshot Harry said, “I’m really sorry, Professor Jordan, I don’t know what’s gotten into him!”

Josh grinned. “Really? You don’t? Well I think, I might have a pretty good idea…” They watched Draco leaving the pool area and Josh added, “But he certainly has a point. I shouldn’t call you Harry, at least not in front of others. Your fan-club won’t like it either.” he nodded towards the small group of runners who stared at them.

Harry frowned and asked, “Aren’t they supposed to be your fan-club? I really don’t need this sort of attention.”

“Well, apparently their affection for me was rather short lived. It just took some very intensive cross country runs in bad weather plus the latest news of your coming-out – and they were ready to trade me.”

“Lucky you,” Harry grinned back. He had been used to girls fawning over him for years. But having adoring male fans touched him more than he had expected… even without Draco complaining about it.

***

Two hours later Harry was finally ready to leave the pool. The rest of today’s lesson had run rather smoothly. The regular swimmers gave their new instructors no trouble at all. When it was time for the newcomers to get wet, quite a number claimed to be in group two – only to find out that Harry and Blaise switched groups.

Josh volunteered to support Harry, as some of the newcomers were hardly able to swim at all and Harry gladly accepted his offer. Josh got into the pool to assist, while Harry gave his advice from the pool-side. Together they had made a really good team, Harry thought. He was quite glad to work with the beginners, they certainly needed his full attention but at least they were too busy keeping their heads above the water to give him adoring looks.

After the swimming lesson, Blaise, Tommy, Harry and Josh stayed to swim laps. Josh was an excellent swimmer as well and their training quickly became competitive. It was a lot of fun – Josh behaved just like any other guy and not like a teacher at all. Harry was proud of himself for keeping his cool about Josh's presence.

 _At least I’m totally over that pointless crush,_ he thought with a silent congratulation to himself.

He volunteered to lock up and was therefore the last one in the swimming hall, when the door opened again and a very dirty person appeared. Harry had to look twice to identify Ginny hidden under layers of mud. He couldn’t help laughing at this sight, but still had to tell her off.

“Oh Merlin!” he chuckled, “Ginny – you can’t come in here dropping dirt like that – I’m sorry for whatever happened to you, but the pool has to stay clean!”

“I know that,” Ginny said giving him an impatient look, “I’ll only use the girls’ showers. Just don’t want to enter the castle looking like an ogre… seems like cleaning spells don’t work properly on Highland Games’ dirt.” Looking around she blew her hair out of her face and asked, “Where’s Draco? Didn’t he join today’s swimming class?”

Harry sighed. “He dropped by but decided to leave before even getting into the water.”

“Don’t tell me you started fighting again,” Ginny said looking disappointed. “I so hoped your fights from former years were gone for good.”

“I’m afraid we relapsed,” Harry had to admit, “but don’t worry, it’s got nothing to do with you!”

“I know it’s got nothing to do with me,” Ginny looked confused, “why should it?”

“Well… I thought… I thought you might worry, that I don’t approve of your friendship?”

“Oh Harry!” Ginny laughed, “you’ve still no idea why Draco is so tense around you, do you?”

“No, I don’t!” Harry shouted, “And I don’t know what’s so funny about that either! First Hermione, then Josh and now you as well – I’m ever so glad you all know what’s going on in Draco’s fucking mind, but I certainly have no clue!” He felt quite exasperated.

Ginny stopped laughing and looked slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, my dear,” she said, “but I’m afraid you’ll have to work that out for yourself.” She shivered. “Well, I better take a hot shower fast before I freeze to death… Hermione's waiting for you upstairs by the way, she looks so smug, as if she invented a spell to control the solar system, you know that look?” She blew him a kiss and headed for the girls’ showers.

 _Well, at least that’s good news – she must’ve found some clue on the incident board,_ Harry mused and hurried upstairs.

***

Apparantly his two best friends had lurked in the second floor's corridor near the door to the staircase, because the moment Harry opened it, Hermione jumped at him. She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him towards his own room with Ron following a few steps behind.

As soon as Ron closed the door she shouted, “Harry! We might have another lead!” Her expression was very much the same as after exams, slightly dishevelled but very pleased with herself as well.

“You found something on the Magic Board? That’s great, Hermione!” Harry said.

“No! I found nothing on that stupid board! Nothing of interest at all – which was so very frustrating! So I had to go to the library of course.”

“Of course you did.” Harry and Ron grinned at each other.

They were well aware that Hermione Granger’s preferred remedy for unwelcome feelings was a book– or preferably a ton of books. Harry might find relief on a broom, Ron might get it from a hearty meal. Hermione’s favourite escapism was reading.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said disapprovingly before she couldn’t help grinning too.

“Anyway... I went to the library and started to browse the shelves of the arts section when suddenly it occurred to me – any book with nasty Magical Arts hexes might not be found there but in the restricted section. You remember me summoning books about Horcruxes? Yeah, exactly. So I tried several summoning charms for ‘Nasty Arts’, ‘Poison Arts’ – and look what came to me when I called for ‘Mean Arts’?”

She took the enchanted beaded bag from her cloak’s pocket and pulled out a leather-bound book that was tied with strings and looked oddly familiar.

“C.O.M.A.,” Harry read the title aloud – finally the other shoe dropped, “that’s the same one as the vomiting book from the library of No 12!”

“Yes, it is.” Hermione said proudly, “but this one comes with instructions how to handle it!” She pulled out a sheet of parchment stuck beneath the strings and handed it to Harry.

His eyes flew over the ancient handwriting. “You have to open it with a brush!” he exclaimed.

“Exactly.” Ron said producing a delicate brush from his pocket. “Go on, open it.”

Harry stared at his friends. “Are you sure? I haven’t time to take another shower and change before dinner!”

“Trust us. We’ve done it already.” Ron said with an assuring nod.

Harry cleared his desk with a quick spell and placed the ancient volume on top. Then he took the tiny brush, stepped away from the desk as far as possible and opened the book carefully with the tip of the brush.

The book moaned and burped loudly – but it did not vomit.

“See!” Hermione beamed, “it’s a Cyclopedia of Mean Arts! ‘C.O.M.A.’ is not a noun but an acronym!”

“Remember when you told us about that book at your place? And I assumed ‘Coma’ to be a warning – the book being so boring you might fall into a coma while reading it?” Ron grinned, “Well, Cyclopedia of Mean Arts doesn’t sound boring one bit!”

Harry grinned. “Brilliant! I’m still not sure why this gives us a lead for the Imagic issue, but it’s nice to know how to handle that book.”

“The lead comes with one of the hexes described in the book,” Hermione explained, “I did a bit of speed reading and…” – she grabbed the brush from Harry’s hand and tapped it to the book murmuring “Page four-seven-seven”.

Pages scrolled magically all by themselves releasing a cloud of ancient dust until the book settled at the desired page with another burp. Which smelled awful.

"Ugh..." Harry wrinkled his nose and stared at the page. “Is this written in runes?”

“No, silly. I wouldn’t ask you to read for yourself, if this were runes. It’s just ancient hand writing.” Hermione sighed. “I might as well tell you what it says. The chapter's title is ‘Paintfall’ and it describes how to hex a painting to turn it into a trap for Imagics.”

“What?! You mean… just like the Malfoy painting? So Taurus Malfoy didn’t invent this spell? Anybody who got a hold of this book can do it?” Harry exclaimed.

“Yes, exactly. I never believed Taurus Malfoy to be clever enough for inventing such a complex spell in the first place,” Hermione said with disdain.

“Does it also explain how to remove the hex?” Harry asked excitedly.

Hermione grinned, “Yes, that’s part of the description too! So… if the missing Imagics are indeed trapped, we can set them free as soon as we find the hexed painting. For a start we need to find out how many copies of this book exist and whether any suspect had access to them.”

Ron and Harry exchanged a sceptical glance.

“Oh, don’t look so doubtful! I’m pretty sure there are not too many copies of this old thing around considering even Flitwick didn’t know the hex. For a start someone has to ask Madam Pince, I’m sure she knows a lot about it… someone else than me, obviously, as I have… ,“ she flushed and cleared her voice, “I have obtained the book in a slightly unusual manner.”

Ron burst out laughing. “Welcome back to the world of mischief, ‘Mione! I’ve wondered how long it'll take you to be done with following the rules in times of peace. What did you say, eh? ‘ _All is fair in love and war!’_ Well, apparently not only in love and war.”

“Who says this investigation isn’t a work of love?” Hermione said and to Harry’s utter embarrassment she winked at him.


	21. Lady Library's Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to all the fabulous and notoriously good-humoured librarians presently in quarantine, probably cataloguing their personal books at home.  
> Particularly to the brilliant Triple M.s (MA & MB & MG) - looking forward to seeing you again!

Ron and Hermione agreed with Harry on informing McGonagall about C.O.M.A. and let her decide how to proceed concerning Madame Pince. None of them was too keen on talking to Hogwarts' librarian as she was prone to being rather grumpy. Probably the grumpiest of all staff members. Therefore Harry wanted to talk to McGonagall first.

Trying to get a hold of her before dinner he headed for the Headmistress’ office. Just as he turned into the corridor at the foot of the enchanted staircase Harry stopped in his tracks. McGonagall was walking towards him – accompanied by Laddley. Harry had completely forgotten that this evening the Muggle Studies teacher had to decide whether he would leave Hogwarts or stay under McGonagall’s conditions.

“Good evening, Mr Potter,” said the Headmistress looking as composed as ever, “perfect timing, to see you right now. I wanted to let you know about Professor Laddley’s decision anyway.”

She turned towards the teacher, “I am very pleased you agreed to take my offer of support and will stay with us at Hogwarts for the time being.”

Harry drew a deep breath.

Gregory Laddley squirmed and said, “Well, I’m willing to give it a try… not totally sure about the outcome, though.”

“Willingness is quite enough at this point,” McGonagall nodded supportively, “I wouldn’t trust you one bit, if you pretended to be all comfortable with our arrangement so quickly. I’m well aware it’ll take some time to adjust. If you stick with your part of the agreement, we will see how that works for you in good time.”

She addressed Harry again, “Professor Laddley will at least stay two more months and I will recruit someone to work with him on his recovery. At Christmas we will see, if our attempts are fruitful and whether Professor Laddley might stay permanently or not. For now I expect you to be open-minded, Mr Potter, open-minded and discreet, same as the other students who know what has happened. Can you do that and make sure Mr Hillborogh and Mr Zabini understand as well?” She looked expectantly at Harry.

Harry gulped and nodded grudgingly.

McGonagall beamed at him. “Thank you, Har – Mr Potter, I expected nothing less from you.”

“Mr Potter, I’m… I’m really sorry… I had no idea that you… I never wanted to insult _you_ of all people,” said Laddley. His face had flushed to a dark purple.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “you obviously had no idea that I’m gay too. Tell you what, neither did I until recently. And it doesn’t make me another person, you know? I’m still the same.”

“Quite right, Mr Potter,” McGonagall nodded. “I hope you will keep up swimming as Professor Laddley insists you are very talented?”

“Not as good as Tommy,” Harry could not help saying. He wanted to see the swimming instructor’s reaction, when his least favourite student was mentioned. But Laddley just lowered his eyes to the floor and kept quiet.

“Fine, that’s settled then. Well, it’s dinner time, isn’t it?” McGonagall started walking again but Harry stayed put.

“Sorry, Headmistress, I actually came to talk about something else – another matter… if you could spare just a minute? Or shall we talk after dinner?” he asked.

“Ah, I see,” she gave Harry a curious look, “well, besides tedious bureaucracy there are at least some advantages in being the Headmistress. One of them – nobody will scold me for being late to dinner.” She gave Harry a quick smile before she turned to Laddley again.

“Professor Laddley, please go ahead without us and… would you be so kind as to ask Professor Flitwick to start dinner? You can tell him Mr Potter and I have urgent business to attend to.” And with a fierce nod she sent Laddley on his way, who hurried down the corridor without further comment.

“What is it, Harry?” asked McGonagall as soon as Laddley was out of sight. “Some good news would make for a nice change.”

Harry grinned at her, “Yeah, it’s good news, at least we hope it is… Hermione found a book at the library, it’s called C.O.M.A. Cyclopedia of Mean Arts. One Chapter explains in detail how to turn a painting into a trap for Imagics – just like the one Mrs Malfoy owns! Funny thing is, a copy of the very same book happens to be part of the library at No 12, the Blacks’ library.”

“That is very interesting indeed!” McGonagall raised her eye-brows, “May I ask where precisely in our library Ms Granger found that book? Surely it is not part of the Arts section? Otherwise Filius would be familiar with the hex. Does Madame Pince know about it?”

Harry cleared his voice, “Well, she doesn’t. That’s why I wanted to talk to you first… Hermione… she just summoned the book so we don’t know where exactly the book was stored but–”

McGonagall gawped at Harry, “She _just_ _summoned_ the book?”

“Yeah, she’s done it before, you know, when we were researching Horcruxes…”

To Harry’s utter amazement McGonagall suddenly started to smile until she was all smiles and looked truly and totally delighted.

“That is the most wonderful news, Harry! I’m ever ever so glad! And Madam Pince will be jubilant!” she exclaimed.

“She will?” Harry asked doubtfully.

“Of course she will! It only happens about once in a century that the library gives one of the patrons total access!”

“The library does this?” Harry felt even more confused.

McGonagall sighed. “I see. You have still no concept of Hogwarts true magic… let me explain. Many objects and parts of our wonderful school have a life of their own, not only the Imagic paintings. Hogwarts’ library for example has a very… delicate personality. Why do you think Madam Pince is often so… exhausted and therefore sometimes not in the best of moods?”

“Because of students making a mess?”

McGonagall laughed. “Students are the least of her concerns! No, the library is very moody and can be rather… touchy. Among the staff we call her Lady Library. Madam Pince merely tries to keep her Ladyship in good spirits, that’s why she has to be so strict with all the patrons.” She gave a little laugh. “Be assured our Madam Pince can be as bossy with us teachers as she is with students, just to please her Ladyship.”

Harry stared at the Headmistress who seemed even more amused about his reaction. He could not remember seeing her in such good spirits ever before.

“Anyway… sometimes, very rarely indeed, Lady Library falls in love with one of her patrons, with a person of exceptional abilities, a dedicated reader, devoted to books. And like a true lover her ladyship will do anything for her beloved. Ms Granger obviously is Lady Library’s present love affair – that is why she can summon books, even from the restricted section.” She paused. “Have you tried it?”

Harry shook his head.

“Well, I can assure you it would not work,” McGonagall chuckled, “Lady Library wouldn’t even deliver to the Headmistress – if I were foolish enough to summon!”

“So… if the library is in love with Hermione,” Harry thought this sounded extremely weird even by the standards of Hogwarts’ world of wonders, “what’s that supposed to mean? Besides Hermione’s ability to summon books? I mean… she has a boyfriend – will the library be… jealous of Ron?”

“Oh no, not to worry,” McGonagall smiled some more, “this is platonic love at its finest. This love is just a blessing for Ms Granger and for all of us actually, because her Ladyship will be in considerably better spirits as long as Miss Granger stays at school… hmm, we should probably persuade her to stay as a teacher…”

Mere minutes later Harry sat down at his usual place for dinner. Ginny and Cass were engrossed in a whispered conversation of their own. Draco avoided his eyes and seemed deeply in thought. _At least he’s eating properly for a change,_ Harry thought with an approving look at Draco’s full plate.

“What is it, Harry?” Hermione asked sounding quite nervous, “You look… upset? Did you talk to McGonagall about… what I did?”

Harry just nodded.

Ron looked worried, “Don’t tell me Hermione’s in trouble for… you know?”

“No, not at all, quite the contrary… it’s actually fine. Relax, Hermione,” Harry sighed, “just… wait a minute and you’ll see…”

He realized McGonagall had quit talking to Madam Pince, who rose from her chair and both witches walked towards the eighth-years’ table.

“Uh-oh… here they come,” Ron moaned.

The highly unusual sight of two members of staff –one of them being the Headmistress– approaching a students’ table made the noise ebb down and the Great Hall fell silent. McGonagall and Madam Pince stopped in front of Hermione, who turned pink and blurted,

“I am ever so sorry, Madam Pince!”

“Oh my dearest Miss Granger!” Madam Pince beamed at Hermione, “there is absolutely no reason for you to apologize! I am just so pleased, so very very happy for you! This is the most wonderful news!”

Hermione looked as confused as all of the other students who were listening in. What Madam Pince was saying made no sense at all, but even more disturbing was her smile and politeness, which was totally out of character.

“Miss Granger has of course no idea what you are talking about, Irma,” said McGonagall dryly and Harry was somewhat relieved that at least the Headmistress had returned to her usual matter-of-fact way of talking.

“Yes of course, Minerva,” Madam Pince said eagerly, “well, I suggest we pay her Ladyship a visit as soon as you have finished eating, Miss Granger? Take your time, no need to hurry. I will then explain everything to you, my dear, everything you want to know about her Ladyship… oh, I am so delighted that this is happening while I am still in service!” Madam Pince seemed overwhelmed by her feelings.

“Well I suppose…?” said Hermione. Her eyes met Harry’s and he could practically hear her scream silent questions at him.

“Fine, it is settled then,” Madam Pince sighed, “I’ll wait for you at the library… not hungry any more…” she murmured turning away, “… way too excited…”

McGonagall chuckled. “Well, Miss Granger, I am sure Mr Potter will explain everything to you much better than I could. Let me just say as much – it is a great gift to have you at our school especially in times of troubles.” And with a final nod she went back to the staff table.

All the eighth-years turned towards Harry and stared at him expectantly.

He cleared his voice, “Well apparently… Madame Pince… no, the library… Hermione… oh fuck – I don’t know how to explain this!” he blurted, “The library is a lady and she fancies you, Hermione! You can do whatever you want with it… with her… whatever.”

Hermione paled than blushed deeply.

“Whoa,” Cass looked awestruck, “You know what that means, Hermione? The library has chosen you! That only happens about once a century! As described in _‘Hogwarts’ Greatest Miracles’_ – “

“ – page 256…” whispered Hermione.

For the rest of dinner time Harry had barely a minute to eat in peace. First of all Blaise and Tommy were alerted by Laddley’s presence at the staff table. They took Harry aside and wanted to know everything Harry could tell them about McGonagall’s arrangements – not that he knew much about it. Eventually both of them agreed to cooperate. To Harry’s surprise it was far more difficult to convince Blaise than Tommy, that Laddley deserved another chance.

“You don’t need to be gay to know that homophobia just sucks,” Blaise said, reluctantly accepting Laddley’s prolonged presence at school.

When Tommy went back to his own table, Harry and Blaise sat down again.

Draco glared at Tommy’s back and Blaise followed his gaze.

“What is it, Malfoy?” he smirked. “Never seen a cute bottom before?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Draco hissed.

What was that about? Harry wondered. Well, Tommy actually had a very nice peach of an arse, no denying that. Harry had seen him often enough in speedos. Not that he was interested, but still.

Anyway– he didn’t have time to follow this line of thought, as all of his friends wanted to know everything about Hermione’s special relationship with the library. He had to repeat again and again that, just like them, he had no clue how that worked.

Luckily Hermione and Cass knew a lot about Lady Library and her love affairs in the cause of Hogwarts’ history. They retold stories of her previous lovers and for once everybody listened closely to a history topic.

Ron took the news of his girlfriend’s new admirer well enough. Just for a minute he looked confused before he grinned ever so proudly.

“Always knew it,” he said hugging Hermione tightly, “that eventually someone else would fall for you too! You’re way too smart… and beautiful… and kind! At least this time it’s not a world famous Quidditch player!”

They had finally finished pudding and he planted a loud kiss on her flushed cheek. “Off you go, ‘Mione, your date is waiting for you!”

“Well, if you don’t mind,” she said with an embarassed little smile, “at least I can find out all about… about you know what… and I’ll tell you everything when I’m back, promise!”

“Of course you will! I’ll wait for you in our…” Ron coughed, “in my room.”


	22. Disrupted Dancing

Not until next morning -on their way to Friday's first lesson- Harry got Hermione’s update. At least something to cheer him up – Draco had skipped today’s early morning tea and Harry was more disappointed about it than he wanted to admit.

“I have full access to every single book and parchment of the collection at all times!” Hermione said with shining eyes, climbing down the stairs of the Guest House.

“Even when Madam Pince is not around, the doors will just swing open for me – can you believe it? Plus I might not only summon any item of the library within Hogwarts’ boundaries, I can also ask for recommendations! And that’s going to be really helpful for our case. It wasn’t easy to get rid of Madam Pince, mind you. She stuck to me like a limpet… and of course I didn’t want to do research with her looking over my shoulder. Only when I insisted, she left me alone with her Ladyship and I finally had a chance to ask for items that might help me understand Imagics and also for the background of C.O.M.A and –”

“But – how exactly do you ask a library? Did you just blurt out the question to the room at large and hope for the best or what?” Harry interrupted.

“Oh no, it’s quite simple. Madam Pince gave me a special book…” she stopped at the foot of the stairs, rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small volume bound in soft purple leather.

“It was completely empty when I got it,” she switched to the first page, “these were my first requests. I just wrote down what I wanted, closed the book – and within seconds stuff flew at me from all sides! Her Ladyship overdid it a bit, I’m afraid, not sure every item she suggested is in fact useful, but I already found some interesting stuff… it’s just so much, I summoned it all to my room but haven’t been able to sort through it yet.”

Ron turned toward Harry, “Our sitting room looks like another library now – books and parchments everywhere!”

“Ron –” Hermione said between gritted teeth and Ron blushed violently.

Harry laughed at his friends. “Don’t worry! I’ve figured it out by now that you’re living together. I won’t tell anyone of course, your secret is safe with me.” He grinned at them reassuringly and they started walking again.

“Yes,” Ron said rather proudly, “Hermione connected our separate rooms and now we share a sitting room and a bedroom.”

“Oh well,” Hermine straightened her hair and smiled at Harry, “I’m actually glad you know, it was weird keeping this secret from you.”

“And you can come and visit – if you want to sit between piles of books, that is,” Ron winked at Harry. “Well, that’s what happens, when you open your relationship to third parties, I guess.”

“Oh Ron, don’t exaggerate!” Hermione said, “it’s not that bad!”

Harry laughed. “I’ll be happy to see for myself! But Hermione – what’s the interesting stuff you’ve found?”

Meanwhile they had passed the main entrance of the castle and were heading for the dungeons as today's first lesson was Potions.

“Ah – yes. I asked for the background of C.O.M.A., where the book has been stored, who had looked into it lately and how many copies exist altogether. Her ladyship obviously keeps records of her books, because she sent me a parchment with all the facts,” Hermione explained.

“Apparently nobody has read Hogwarts’ C.O.M.A. for centuries – can you believe it? This one is the original book of course and it’s been stored at the restricted section. What really surprised me – the book has only ever been copied twice in all those years! Both copies were made ages ago for pure-blood families collecting Magical Arts, for the Ollivanders and for the Malfoys! Your copy isn’t even mentioned!“

“That’s interesting,” said Harry, “well, Cass told me the former Ollivander collection was handed over to the Ministry… maybe their C.O.M.A. copy is at the Ministry’s library? I’ll ask McGonagall to check this. The Malfoy copy must be the one Taurus has read. I’m sure Kingsley could find out whether it’s still at the Manor.”

They stepped into the corridor to the dungeons, when Harry continued, “But what about my copy… the Malfoys and the Blacks have been close for generations – maybe my book is a copy of the Malfoys’ volume? Or what if…” he stopped in his track and said excitedly, “hey, what if the Malfoys’ _was actually mine_? Would it be possible to find that out?”

“I guess so! I’m pretty sure her Ladyship could tell because the copy was created at Hogwarts – we would just have to fetch your book and show it to her!”

Suddenly Harry heard the well known voice of Blaise Zabini in his usual volume, “ _What if Malfoy was yours_ , Harry? Well that’s an interesting question indeed!”

Harry and his friends turned around and saw Blaise walking the corridor towards them. Harry was horrified to see, that Draco was at his side, face flushed and looking annoyed as hell.

“Get your ears checked, Zabini! That’s not what Harry said!” Ron stated.

And Hermione continued, “And you might want to check your mind-set too – as far as I know no one is entitled to own another human being!”

Harry was mortified. He gawped at the floor praying the tiles might crack open and admit him to disappear into the ground underneath the dungeons.

Blaise chuckled, “Yeah, maybe I’ve misheard – but it’s still a nice idea, don’t you agree?”

***

Blaise’s comment had been anything but helpful to ease the tension between Harry and Draco. For the rest of the day Draco didn’t speak a single word to Harry, he didn’t even look at him and skipped both lunch and dinner. Harry wanted to scream his frustration at Draco – but bit his tongue.

Early Saturday morning Draco didn’t show up at the common room for the second time and Harry wasn’t even surprised. Draco had been far from relaxed during the last few morning encounters, his mood swings had increased significantly since… well, since Harry’s official outing, in fact.

Harry sighed. Whom was he trying to fool? Draco most likely had a problem with Harry being gay. Although this made no sense, considering Draco had known about it for weeks. Plus he adored his lesbian cousin.

 _‘Maybe he’s afraid I might jump him, when we’re all alone in the morning? Oh fuck…’_ Harry thought pouring the cup of Earl Grey he had prepared for Draco down the drain. Whatever they had shared for some days, weeks even – amity, friendship, it was obviously gone.

If this wasn’t about Harry’s sexual orientation, then he had no clue what had gone wrong. Maybe Draco was just a moody bastard – certainly that would have been his conclusion in previous years. But he had been sure, that Draco was more than that, a better person than the arrogant brat who had been a pain in the ass for seven years.

***

At least the Imagic enquiries made some progress – thanks to Hermione’s new status as chief investigator of ancient literature. Saturday afternoon Harry spent some more hours at the Headmistress’ office following the latest leads. McGonagall promptly enquired after the Ollivander copy of C.O.M.A. and received the information that the book was indeed stored at the Ministry. Same as the original book of Hogwarts, it had not been checked out for years – in fact nobody at all had looked at it since the Ollivander collection had been donated to the Ministry. Kingsley Shacklebolt had instructed Ms Malfoy’s present probation officer to search discretely for the second copy and he expected to get results within a few days.

Meanwhile Harry decided to ask Kreacher to fetch his very own C.O.M.A. copy from No 12. When he called for him in the late afternoon, the House-elf was as eager to serve his master as ever but also surprised Harry by asking for permission to stay at the old house over the weekend.

“Kreacher wants to air all the rooms properly, dust off the furniture and have a good look around to make sure everything is the way as it should be for Master Harry Potter Sir,” the House-elf declared with great importance.

Harry was secretly delighted that the House-elf dared to ask for something – if only for permission to do some more work. Well, it was probably a good idea to check the house from time to time. Maybe he should consider sending Kreacher back to London once a month, Harry mused.

***

After another silent treatment from Draco during Saturday dinner Harry went to his room, determined to stay there all evening. Most of his friends had been in rather good spirits, looking forward to the dance party at the gym but Harry saw no reason to join them. Only one more week to go until Halloween - this was the last dance party before the ball.

 _‘What’s the point of joining a dance party when – let’s face it,’_ he thought, _‘I never will be any good at dancing?’_

He slouched on his sofa and dozed off for a bit. When he woke up again he browsed through some of his text books.

 _Pathetic,_ he thought, _Saturday night and nothing better to do than reading ‘Perfect Potions’!_

Harry closed the Potions textbook with a snap and stood up. However bad his dancing skills might be, he felt damn lonely. If all his friends were at the damn party, he would go there too, damn it. He sighed, changed into his favourite green sweater and went downstairs.

Opening the door to the sports area he could immediately hear the music coming from the largest room of the gym at the far end of the corridor. He was late of course. The party had started more than an hour ago and must be in full flow by now.

When he passed the door to the pool area, he was surprised to find it slightly ajar. The pool was not supposed to be accessible for younger students without permission to swim unsupervised. Harry stepped closer to shut the door properly. Just to make sure not to lock someone in, he opened the door some more and peeked inside. He froze and his stomach clenched.

Right in front of his eyes was the sight he had dreaded to come across for some time now: Ginny and Draco cuddled together on one of the arm chairs, hugging and snogging. They didn’t even realize that someone –Harry!– had opened the door, so engrossed were they with each other. Although the ceiling lights were out, Harry was in no doubt. Ginny’s signature hair of auburn red and Draco’s white blond head were easy enough to identify even in the soft glow of security lamps only.

Harry gulped down the bile that had risen to his throat. He closed the door quietly without locking up and leaned against the wall of the corridor. He felt stunned. Knowing that something was about to happen sooner or later was one thing. But laying eyes on it without warning was something else entirely. His heart beat frantically and his mind was strangely empty. He had no idea what to do next. Should he go back to his room? Suffer in splendid isolation? Self-pity had been a close companion during his fifth year at Hogwarts – he had no intention of renewing that unpleasant relationship.

Harry forced his legs into motion and approached the music… at least he wouldn’t have to see them dancing together like last Saturday. Small mercies.

He opened the door and scanned the room for Ron and Hermione. He really –desperately– needed his best friends right now. Maybe he could even tell them what he had seen? Maybe Ron would be as shocked –if for different reasons– than Harry himself? That would be a small relief at least.

His eyes met Ron’s who was standing at the rim of the dance floor and immediately beckoned to Harry. Luna and Dean were at his side – and they were holding hands. Harry moaned silently. Another couple had finally made it. He walked towards his friends, determined to fake a smile for their sake and not to spoil their happiness.

“Where’ve you been, mate?” Ron shouted as soon as Harry was close enough, “you look as if the Bloody Baron has haunted you! Everything alright, eh?”

Harry just nodded and grinned at Luna and Dean, “Congratulations!” he said pointing at their hands, “took you long enough!”

Dean just grinned and looked rather pleased, whereas Luna chuckled, “Look who’s talking! _Haste makes waste_ – isn’t that rather your love-life’s motto?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Harry said before he cleared his voice and turned towards Ron, “Where’s your lovely girlfriend by the way? Still flirting with Lady Library?”

“Nah,” Ron grinned, “looks like she has yet another admirer…” and he nodded at one corner of the dance-floor. Harry followed his friends’ eyes – and his mouth fell open.

“She’s… she’s dancing with Draco!” he blurted.

Ron chuckled. “Yeah, she is. And I certainly don’t blame her… actually he comes in quite handy – her endurance on the dance-floor is much better than mine – I’m already beaten. I should probably let her lead…”

“But… “ Harry felt totally confused, “where’s Ginny?”

“No idea,” Ron shrugged, “hasn’t turned up all evening, same as Cass… I actually thought you might be with them but Hermione says that’s most unlikely – for whatever reason.”

The moment Harry heard Ron mentioning Cass’ name – the penny dropped! He gasped. What an idiot he had been! Of course Ginny hadn’t snogged Draco – but Cassy! Suddenly everything made sense. How could he have been so ignorant? It was obvious – the girls were ever so close, they cuddled all the time and barely were able to keep their hands off each other – they were in love.

Harry beamed at Ron.

“Yeah, I see Hermione’s point. They certainly don’t need me to have a good time,” he said while thinking _, ‘Oh elder brother, you’re in for a surprise…_ ’

Suddenly the dance party seemed to be much more fun than just minutes ago. The atmosphere was jolly, smiling faces all around and Harry was determined to enjoy the evening as well. He watched the crowded dance-floor, occasionally getting a glimpse of Hermione and Draco. When the music ended, they approached Ron and Harry.

Hermione beamed at Harry and hugged him, “Finally you’re here! What took you so long?” She glanced at Draco and said, “We’ve missed you!”

“Speak for yourself,” said Draco between gritted teeth.

There was a moment of awkward silence until the next dance began. Hermione and Luna exchanged a look, before grabbing their respective boyfriend’s arms and dragging them to the dance-floor.

“Sorry, just have to practice the Slow Waltz some more!” Hermione shouted over her shoulder and Ron’s protest.

They were alone – well, as alone as two people could be at an overcrowded dance-party.

“I’m quite surprised to see you, Potter,” said Draco with raised eye-brows, ”didn’t expect you to spend your spare-time with students only. Don’t you miss Professor Jordan terribly?”

“Seriously?” Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest, “You don’t talk to me for two days –no fucking word for Merlin’s sake!– and this is the first thing you have to say to me?” He shook his head, “You’re such a jerk. Once and for all I think Josh Jordan is an excellent teacher and a fine chap as well – but I’m not into him, okay?”

“If you say so.” Draco smirked. “It’s just… listening to Jordan rambling about you in front of the runners –Harry this, Potter that– one cannot help getting the impression that…”

“What?” Harry shouted, “he’s a teacher for fuck’s sake!”

“Exactly,” Draco shouted back, “but only for a few more months! You’ll be ever so glad when school’s over, won’t you?”

Harry stared at Draco.

Maybe... ?

What if Draco Malfoy was … jealous?! Could that be true?

“Seriously,” Harry said with careful consideration, “no, I’m not attracted to Josh Jordan, neither am I looking forward to leaving Hogwarts,” silently adding to himself, _‘Because I’ll miss you, you stupid bastard!’_ He searched Draco's face for any clue to what was going on in his mind. _  
_

“Whatever,” Draco bit his lips and turned away to scan the room.

Harry sighed. He had no idea how to read Draco's reaction.

“If you’re looking for Cass, I think she might not turn up tonight,” Harry said.

“Of course she won’t, she’s with Ginevra, finally,” Draco replied matter of factly.

“You… you know about them – being an item?” Harry was surprised.

Draco shrugged. “Well it wasn’t exactly hard to get. Don’t you remember we even talked about it some time ago? You were worried Ginny might get hurt and I said that’s exactly how I feel about Cassy.”

“Well…” Harry said, hesitantly finding his words, “that’s not what I thought back then… I had the impression… I might have imagined that you and Ginny… the three of you always sticking together… _you_ being ever so close to Ginny… you know what I mean?”

“You thought _I’m in love with Ginny_?!” Draco stared at Harry wide-eyed, “Merlin, you’re really slow off the mark and apparently have no gaydar as well. I most certainly don’t fancy Ginny or any other girl.”

He cleared his voice and looked right into Harry’s eyes, “To spell it out for you, I’m gay. Did you really never get that?”

Just when Harry thought he might happily loose himself forever in those beautiful grey eyes, the door flew open with a bang. Ginny and Cass stormed into the room, wands raised and sending crackling sparkles up in the air.

“Attention everybody,” shouted Ginny, “we’ve got a problem!”

The music stopped and all eyes were upon them. Professor Flitwick scuttled towards them from the beginners’ corner.

“What’s going on?” he cried, “Ms Weasley, Ms Malfoy – I hope you have a good reason for bursting in here and interrupting the dance!”

“The Gryffindor common room is locked up!” Cass explained, “The Fat Lady is gone!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 22 chapters done, 22 chapters to go.  
> Time for interim questions:  
> Who’s the villain? What’s their motive? Where is Dumbledore's Imagic?  
> And how many more chapters will it take the boys to see the light of reason and #Drarry, for Merlin’s sake?!  
> Any ideas? (Comments, lovely readers, comments!)


	23. Malfoy, Mildly Impressed

The dance party ended in turmoil. Several students were alarmed and shouted questions at Ginny and Cass. Most of the Gryffindors got ready to leave, apparently they wanted to see with their own eyes what had happened at Gryffindor Tower. Others, mostly Slytherins, were annoyed about the interruption and demanded the party to be continued.

“Why does the music have to stop? Just because Gryffindors can’t control their porter – that’s got to be a joke!” one fourth-year Slytherin complained loudest.

Professor Flitwick tried to control the situation. “Quiet!” he squeaked, “Stop!” – without much effect.

In an instant Harry sealed the front door of the Guest House with a locking spell, before he left Draco’s side reluctantly to join Flitwick.

“Shut up! All of you!” Harry roared – and within a few seconds they did.

“That’s better, thank you,” Harry said, “I understand that you are confused, but Professor Flitwick will take care of the situation.”

Then he turned to Flitwick and said quietly, “Professor, I could look after the students, if that’s ok? I’ll make sure the Gryffindors stay at the guesthouse and send the others back to their dormitories supervised.”

Flitwick sighed with relief, “Thank you, that would be excellent, Mr Potter, excellent indeed. Meanwhile I’ll inform the Headmistress. She’s in her private rooms tonight, entertaining a guest… oh Merlin, this is a disaster! No point in hiding our problem any longer…”

Then Flitwick addressed the crowd, “Students, I can well understand, that some of you are alarmed or worried about the situation –“

“But I’m neither,” one cheeky Slytherin interrupted, “I just want to dance!”

“– well, you won’t, at least not tonight, Mr Grey,” Flitwick said with a stern look at the boy, “and if you keep interrupting me, you won’t dance any other evening either. Let us hope the disappearance of the Fat Lady is nothing to worry about – but maybe it is. In any case I need to inform the Headmistress and therefore have to leave immediately. In my absence Mr Potter is in charge,” Flitwick said and again some Slytherins grumbled but most of the other students accepted Harry’s authority without complaint.

Flitwick raised his voice, “I repeat: Mr Potter is in charge. He will report any disobedience to me and I will not hesitate to take points off your house, understood?”

Finally the gravity of the situation seemed to sink in and the students fell silent but for some urgent whispers. 

“Well then,” Flitwick said in a lower voice again, “Ms Weasley and Ms Malfoy, as you happen to have spotted the… the problem, I need you to come with me – the Headmistress will want to question you. And Mr Potter – maybe you could join us at Gryffindor Tower as soon as you have sorted out the students?” He turned towards Hermione and Ron, who had also stepped closer, “The help of Ms Granger and Mr Weasley would also be much appreciated.”

They all nodded and Flitwick turned to leave with Ginny and Cass right behind him.

“Ah, Professor,” Harry called after Flitwick, “you’ll find the front door locked – I’ve sealed the main entrance… just a precaution.”

Flitwick turned around and said, “Good thinking, Mr Potter! Your defence skills are really extraordinary!” Then he was gone.

The students looked expectantly at Harry.

He cleared his voice, “Ok. I want all prefects, seventh- and eighth-year students at my side immediately. The rest of you – please sort into house groups! Can you do that? Thank you!”

Harry was again amazed at his effect on the crowd. Of course Flitwick backing him up helped but he was still surprised that most of them did exactly as he told them without serious protests and not too much fuss either.

“Right,” Harry said to the older students gathering around him, “let’s see… Luna, could you and the Ravenclaw prefects please get all the students from your house back to Ravenclaw tower safely?”

“Of course, Harry,” she smiled calm as ever.

“I’d like to go with them,” said Dean, “if that’s ok?”

“Good idea,” said Harry, then he turned to Hannah Abbot, “Hannah and the Hufflepuff prefects, would you do the same for your fellows? That’s great, thank you. And finally… looks like there’s no prefect from Slytherin with us but quite a number of younger students… Draco and Blaise, could you two walk your lot back to the dungeons?”

“Your wish is my command, Potter,” said Blaise with a grin.

Draco said nothing, but nodded and gave Harry such an intense look that his heart pounded a bit faster. No time to contemplate this, Harry thought.

“Luna, Hannah, Blaise and Draco – please stay at your old dormitories until the heads of houses take over and send you back, which might take a while, especially for Flitwick. Dean, I’m sure you’ll find shelter at Ravenclaw House for tonight.” Dean blushed und Luna looked delighted.

“To all of you – as soon as you are back at your houses, send me a Patronus to confirm that you’re safe. Same goes for any complication – I want to know about anything even slightly worrying. Understood?” They all murmured their agreement.

“Which leaves us Gryffindors,” Neville said, “what do you want me to do Harry?”

“Take our lot upstairs to the eighth-years’ common room, will you, Nev? The rest of our cohort can either join you or stay in their private rooms. I’ll let you know as soon as the coast is clear at Gryffindor Tower.”

Neville nodded.

“Actually, Nev, you can walk upstairs immediately… and please ask the girl’s Imagic in the painting to stay put, we might need her later,” Harry added.

“Maybe you want to lay some extra protection on the door to the second floor, Neville, as soon as you’re all set?” suggested Hermione, “Something password protected… the password for tonight could be – ”

“How about ‘ _Treacle Tart’_?” Draco asked innocently, making everybody laugh as they all knew, this was Harry’s favourite pudding. 

“Always a good choice,” Harry agreed and smiled at Draco. He was grateful for Draco’s attempt to lighten up the mood. Apparently they were on friendly terms again. And Draco was gay. And he might simply have been jealous of Josh… unfortunately Harry had no time to consider the consequences right now. He sighed.

Neville took charge of his group and tried to make the Gryffindors go upstairs, which raised much complaint. Gryffindors never wanted to leave the centre of any battle and to be shipped off to safety when facing a problem was an insult to them. Harry could understand their protests well enough.

“But we all want to help, Mr Potter… Harry!” one over-confident first-year said, his head hardly reached Harry’s elbow.

“What’s your name?” he asked the little boy, trying very hard not to smile.

“Charlie… Charles,” the boy answered, chin up.

“Sometimes the best way to help is –it might sound terribly boring, Charles– following orders. And it might even take courage,” he explained, “especially if that’s not what your friends want to do, understood?”

“Right Sir… Harry,” the kid said and blushed.

“Well then, Charles – you can help Neville by convincing your friends to do what he says! Can you do that? Off you go!”

“’Takes a natural authority like you,” Ron grinned at Harry, “to get Gryffindors out of harm’s way!”

“Agreed.” Draco said, “I won’t deny that I’m mildly impressed.”

“Ha! Mildly impressed?” Blaise laughed and slapped Draco’s back, “That’s the understatement of the year! You’re simply smitten by his authority, Malfoy – that’s what you are!”

To Harry’s delight Draco blushed violently and grumbled, “Shut up, Zabini.”

Could it be true, that maybe –just maybe– Draco returned his affection? Fuck, why didn’t he have time to talk to Draco in private right now!

They all watched the Gryffindors leave before Harry cleared his voice and said, “Let’s get back to business, shall we? I want Luna, Dean and the Ravenclaws to go next. Ron and Hermione, would you please accompany them to the front door and remove my locking spell? I assume Flitwick has applied it again after leaving. It’s the same one we used on our tent last year, remember? Thanks!” – and the second group of students started to exit the gym.

“Ok, let’s give them a minute and then it’ll be your turn,” Harry said to Hannah and the Hufflepuff prefects. They nodded and went to collect their fellows.

“Which makes us go last, I assume? I’ll mentally prepare the Slytherin kids for the road,” Blaise grinned at Harry and Draco, “if you two can spare me for a moment, that is?” he smirked and off he went leaving Draco and Harry alone.

After a few seconds of awkward silence Draco said, “You’re… really good at this,” he paused for a second and added, “Harry.”

There was so much feeling in his voice that Harry’s heart beat faster and his eyes searched Draco’s flushed face.

“Listen...” Harry’s voice was throaty, ”Oh for fuck’s sake! Obviously I don’t have time right now but… I guess we need to talk?”

Draco dropped his gaze and just the hint of a smile played on his lips when he nodded.

There was a bang coming from the exit and seconds later Hermione rushed back into the gym shouting, “The Ravenclaws have left! Next house – Hannah and the Hufflepuffs, come with me please!”

Draco said carefully, “Well… I might have no idea what exactly is going on but as you’ve been obsessed with Magical Arts for weeks - I assume it’s no coincidence that the absence of the Fat Lady causes such an amount of precaution?”

Harry sighed, “I really can’t tell you, Draco, believe me… if it were up to me, I would…”

Suddenly a mighty silver stallion appeared in the middle of the gym and said in Neville’s voice, “Everything’s fine! The Gryffindors are safe at the second floor common room, the door is sealed with the suggested password. Ah… and Daisy sends her love, Harry!”

“Hasn’t Neville’s Patronus been non-corporal before?” Harry wondered.

Draco shrugged.

“Wow, Longbottom sure knows how to impress,” Blaise said, stepping closer again. “And who’s Daisy? I thought, you’re gay, Potter?”

“Believe it or not, Zabini, gay guys can still be friends with girls,” Harry said amused.

Draco snorted, “Friendship with females is not a concept Blaise gets, he just wants to shag each and every girl he meets… everything that moves actually.”

“That is so not true!” Blaise protested and Harry found their bickering to be a nice distraction from the present situation. He felt quite overwhelmed – another missing Imagic, Draco’s changed behaviour – it was all a bit much actually. Joking seemed like a good way to let off some steam.

“You’ve a point, Mr Malfoy! When Blaise found out that I’m gay, he even offered to hook up with me,” he said to Draco.

“Really?” Draco narrowed his eyes and glared at Blaise.

“Well, who wouldn’t like to bask in the glow of Harry superhero Potter?” Blaise laughed.

Hermione entered the gym once again, “Draco, Blaise – it’s your turn!”

Slytherin was the last house to leave. Blaise led them to the exit and Draco watched the rear end of their group, accompanied by Harry.

Ron carefully opened the door and made sure, the coast was clear before beckoning to Blaise to pass.

Harry looked at Draco, “Right… be careful, will you? And don’t forget to send your Patronus as soon as you’re safe!”

Draco cringed and nodded.

Then all the students, less Harry, Ron and Hermione were gone.

“Right,” Ron rubbed his hands, “now we’ve got to wait, until we hear from all three houses, I guess? Shouldn’t take them too long to get to their dormitories...”

Harry turned towards Hermione, “What do you make of the latest abduction? The Fat Lady, huh? That’s an attack against Gryffindor, don’t you think?”

“Well, I’m actually surprised everybody’s so alarmed about her absence,” said Ron, “didn’t she always stroll to other paintings? As soon as they offered food or drinks, that is?”

“But she never left without a proper replacement,” Hermione said, “that’s the alarming thing! I’m pretty sure she’s been abducted and, yes, Harry, I agree with you – that’s a direct attack at our house. In fact Tharros’ involvement is even more unlikely now. All the missing Imagics are closely connected to Gryffindor – she can’t be responsible!”

“Unless she’s bluffing,” said Ron, “which is highly unlikely, I’ll give you that.”

“I wonder what McGonagall has to say about this,” Harry said, “but listen – as we have to wait for the Patronuses, I’d like to fetch the Hogwarts’ Cyclopedia of Mean Arts from upstairs, ok? I think it’s time Flitwick takes a proper look at this book… I’ll be right back, ok?”

Hermione pulled a face, she was obviously not too pleased by the prospect of parting with the book but Harry left anyway.

The staircase was strangely silent, even on the second landing.

 _Maybe Neville’s security charm is also soundproof?_ Harry wondered.

He whispered ‘ _Treacle Tart’_ and smiled to himself when the door swung open. Yes, he could hear the Gryffindor students complaining about being held back well enough now. Neville was not to be envied.

Walking down the corridor Harry mused, _‘Draco is gay… and he blushed when Blaise teased him … and he smiled at me…’_ He stepped into his own room feeling quite optimistic about their friendship.

While he took Hogwarts’ volume of C.O.M.A. from his desk, his eyes fell upon an innocent looking item on his beside table – his invisibility cloak. He grabbed the cloak before leaving his room again. The whole affair of disappearing Imagics turned out to be nastier than expected and it was time to take any possible precaution.

Following an impulse Harry opened the door to the common room, instead of going downstairs right away.

Many students cheered and Neville asked, “Wow that was fast, Harry – can I walk them back to the castle already?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Harry answered, “I just need to talk to Daisy…” and he stepped to the painting of the Wizard’s Wood well aware, that all the students were listening in.

“Good evening, Daisy! I reckon you’ve heard what has happened today?”

“Hi Harry,” she sat at her usual place with a book in her hands and beamed at him, “yes, your friend Neville told me. What do you want me to do? Shall I try to find the Fat Lady?”

“No, Daisy, of course not!” Harry was shocked, “Strolling around all alone could well be dangerous for you! Actually I’m reluctant to ask you for any favour at all – but at least you’ve got Pinkie to watch over you… so here’s what I want you to do – please alert Headmaster Snape about the Fat Lady’s disappearance. Go directly to his portrait and come straight back, do you hear me? No detours!”

“Right, Harry,” Daisy got up and tidied her dress from some leaves, “Pinkie will carry me – he’s such a good mount.” She raised her eyes to the top of one tree and called, “Pinkie, be a good birdie and come to Daisy!”

When the huge raptor touched down beside her, many students cried out – and Harry immediately remembered Draco’s horror when they had first laid eyes on the beast. Daisy was oblivious to the alarm her pet caused and climbed on his back without hesitation.

“We’ll be right back, Harry!” she said.

“Very well,” Harry said, “but I’m sorry – I can’t wait for you tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?”

“Of course, Harry, I understand,” she smiled, “looking forward to seeing you and Draco in the morning as usual!” She waved, kicked her heels in the birds back and Pinkie took off the ground with a piercing shriek. Obviously she didn’t read too much into Draco missing their morning routine twice – maybe Harry shouldn’t either…

“ _You and Draco in the morning as usual_?” Neville looked at Harry with raised eye-brows.

“No time to explain, I’m afraid!” Harry said with a grin. Now what if Neville and half of all Gryffindor students knew about his and Draco’s morning encounters – big deal. It had always been just a matter of time until someone found out.

Talking to the group at large he added, “I’ll be off – and you all, do as Neville tells you, is that clear?” then he left.

After sealing the door to the staircase most carefully he hurried downstairs to the ground floor. When he entered the gym again he was mesmerized by the beautiful sight of three Patronuses whirling in a circle – a hare, a boar and a swan.

“They’ve waited for you to give their messages!” cried Hermione.

Luna’s silvery hare was the first one to talk, _“The Ravenclaw students are safe, Harry. We’re waiting for Flitwick, Dean and I, as you suggested. I’ve sealed the door with a Flip-a-dilly charm… oh, and Dean used a conventional locking spell as well. Bye Harry!”_ – and the hare vanished.

Harry and Ron grinned, but Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Flip-a-dilly charm? I love her dearly but…” she snorted.

The silvery boar spoke next, in Ernie Macmillan’s voice. “ _Hi Harry! Hannah and the younger students have arrived safely and she asked me to say that everything’s under control. She just told me what’s happened… we’ve sealed the door and are waiting for Professor Sprout. If you need anything, just send a message and I’ll come, we all will. Good luck!”_

“Ernie must have been at their common room when the dancers arrived,” Harry said.

“Good for Hannah to have another eighth-year supporting her,” Hermione stated.

The boar dissolved into thin air and Harry stared at the only Patronus left, a beautiful silvery swan. He had assumed Draco’s Patronus to be very elegant – and was therefore startled when the bird spoke with Blaise Zabini’s booming voice.

_“Dearest Harry, the humble house of Slytherin is safe and sound… and hopefully sound asleep soon enough! Draco and I will of course keep watch until Sluggy arrives… well then… Draco sends his looooove… ouch, the fucking bastard just hit me, can you believe it? Harry you might ask him eventually, why he didn’t send his own Patronus… ouch… stop hitting me, you pure-blood bitch! ‘Night, Harry, gotta go!”_

Harry felt an odd mixture of hope and embarrassement.

Hermione grinned and Ron said with a puzzled expression, “Oi, what was that about?”


	24. Fust and Frustration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for those who are going through a difficult time at the moment... and might need to trust in the transformative energy of tears. It'll get better, luv, promise!

_Password? the stone gargoyle demanded._

_Lemon tart! Harry answered without thinking twice – because that was Draco’s favourite dessert._

_Harry climbed up the staircase to the Headmistress’ office. She must have changed her security system once again, he thought, as the stairs were neither moving nor wobbly._

_He climbed and climbed for ages until finally he stepped into the office – strangely enough it looked a lot like the owlery. McGonagall wasn’t there and Harry realized with a jolt, that all the portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses were empty - all but one._

_Draco, what are you doing in here? Harry cried._

_I had my portrait done, Draco’s Imagic said, so you have something to remember me by when I’m gone._

_But where are you going? You can’t go! We’ve just started to become friends! And I thought… I hoped we could be more than just friends!_

_Honestly? That was never going to happen! You and me – we were never meant to be together, said Draco, good bye Harry!_

_No, don’t go, Draco! Harry shouted. No, don’t leave me…_

… he awoke with a jolt, heart pounding. It was only a dream, he had to remind himself, a weird dream. Harry sat up and stared out of the window. It was still dark outside, this was his usual hour to wake up, although yesterday he had gone to bed very late. Nevertheless he was wide awake now.

In the early hours he had fallen asleep full of hope, even the Fat Lady’s disappearance did not spoil his good mood. Harry knew exactly, why he was feeling so joyful – Draco’s outing made all the difference to him and had raised his spirits immensely. 

When he, Ron and Hermione finally arrived at Gryffindor Tower late in the evening, McGonagall and Flitwick had already opened the door to the common room, checked all rooms for intruders and declared the place to be safe.The remaining students at Gryffindor Tower had not even been aware what had happened. Ginny and Cass retreated to the girls’ dormitories after reporting what they had seen – which was basically an empty frame.

Harry gave the C.O.M.A. volume to Flitwick and told the Headmistress about his message to Snape. Both McGonagall and Flitwick approved of this move. Snape’s Imagic turned up shortly afterwards and –just as Harry had expected– he insisted on stepping in for the Fat Lady.

“I’ll be delighted to serve the noble house of Gryffindor!” the Imagic had declared, wich reminded Harry of Dumbledore’s comment about sorting too early. Headmaster Severus Snape truly had been one of the bravest witchards of all times.

Finally they agreed on how to proceed. McGonagall and Flitwick were to inform the other heads of houses on the Fat Lady’s absence and they promised to monitor Professor Tharros’ reaction most carefully. Harry and his friends went back to the Guesthouse and accompanied the younger Gryffindors back to their dormitory. It was after midnight when Harry finally went to bed, tired but full of hope.

And now this weird dream had ruined his mood. Harry sighed and tried to concentrate on last evening’s pleasant events instead… so Draco was gay, he had smiled at Harry and agreed to talk about… well, them.

He would see Draco soon enough, Harry expected. Draco would surely turn up again this morning? They would meet at the common room for early morning tea, they would talk… and maybe today was the day to tell Draco how he felt? His heart beat faster at this prospect. Of course the thought alone was scary, but to go on like before seemed even more torturing.

He brushed his teeth, ruffled his hair and put on his sweat pants, ready to face the young man who had always been able to quicken his pulse like no one else.

When Harry approached the common room he found the door slightly ajar and heard voices coming from the room. He stopped in his tracks – obviously some other student was up already as well. Maybe Draco had left the door open to give him notice? He stepped closer, yes, that was Blaise Zabini’s voice… Harry was still undecided whether to enter or to walk away, when suddenly he heard his own name.

“… so you’ve known about Potter being gay for weeks? And didn’t find it necessary to tell me?” Blaise asked.

Draco’s voice was much softer and somewhat defensive. “Believe it or not, Blaise, I regard privacy very highly – mine as well as others. And someone’s sexual orientation is nothing to gossip about.”

“Well, well…,“ Blaise went on, “that’s one hell of a chance for you? Don’t you think?”

“Do I even want to know what you are insinuating?” Draco sighed.

“Hook up with him! That’ll restore your reputation in no time! Even the Ministry might reconsider their strict observation of superhero Potter’s lover! Not to mention the public opinion! The Prophet will love it, I can see the headline already – ‘ _The reformed Death Eater and the Chosen One’_!”

“That’s just… disgusting,” Draco said with distain. “This is an all-time low even for your standards, Zabini.”

Harry’s heart clenched. So that was Draco’s opinion of him: disgust. He wanted to run away but his body seemed rooted to the spot, his ears rang and he hardly comprehended what he heard next.

“But why the hell not? I thought you fancied Potter anyway? Don’t you find him attractive at all?” Blaise asked. “You might reconsider, if you went to the pool once again, the guy looks quite hot without clothes, I promise!”

“Shut the fuck up, Blaise!” Draco hissed. “This has nothing to do with Potter’s looks! What you suggest is plain abuse and I’ve certainly had enough of that in my life already. Whether to be abused or to pass it on to others – makes no difference to me.”

“Pity you’re such a moralist nowadays,” Blaise said.

Harry had heard more than enough. Finally he regained control of his legs again, turned around and headed back for the safety of his own room. When he closed the door, he exhaled deeply. To think just minutes ago he had considered confessing his feelings to Draco! Blaise had spared him an emotional disaster.

Harry was surprised about his own reaction, he felt… not much actually. His emotions were on hold but his mind raced: How could he have been so misguided again about a guy he fancied? Why had he fallen for Draco sodding Malfoy of all people in the first place? He wanted to smack himself for being so stupid! Harry was as angry at himself as he was angry at Draco.

He took a shower. He brushed his teeth a second time. He shaved. He opened his trunk for fresh clothes – and that's when it suddenly hit him.

The smell of his trunk –unventilated clothes, slightly dusty– it was so similar to the smell of the cupboard under the stairs of No 4 Privet Drive… why had that never occurred to him before?

He got dressed with trembling fingers. The smell brought back so many memories… and so much anger… and so much pain. Harry gasped and sat down on his bed. He was so very tired, tired of being strong, tired of fighting, tired of carrying on. He wanted to give in.

There was a lump in his throat and his eyes burnt… he touched his cheeks suspiciously, yes, he was crying. Harry had not cried for a very long time. In fact, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had cried. Was it at Dumbledore’s funeral? Or maybe when Sirius had died? Well, now he did.

He barely managed to cast a _Muffliato_ before he gave in and flung himself onto his bed, astounded by his own sobbing. He was so very… angry. And his chest hurt so much. But he certainly did not cry for Draco Malfoy.

He cried for the baby-boy who had lost his parents. For the pre-schooler who had been called ‘ _Disgusting_!’ when spilling his milk. For the kid who had felt ugly in Dudley’s old clothes and scared in the dark of his cupboard. For all those years he had felt unwelcome, unloved and alone.

He cried for the school-boy who had to fight like a hero – even when he was frightened to death. He cried until he didn’t even know why he was crying anymore. But he certainly did not cry for Draco Malfoy. He cried until he fell asleep.

When he awoke again, he felt surprisingly calm and relieved. The sun was shining and one look at his watch confirmed that breakfast-time was well over by now. It was eleven o’clock in the morning on Sunday the twenty-fifth of October 1998 – a fine, sunny day, perfect to start again.

He got up and opened the window. The view was still spectacular, the castle still beautiful. He saw Ron and Hermione walking towards the Guesthouse – they were still his best friends.

So what if Draco Malfoy didn’t care much for him? Harry just had to focus on what worked well and was dear to him. Hogwarts needed him to solve the Imagic mystery, his friends wanted him to be happy and a good sport – that’s what he had to keep in mind. That’s what counted.

Maybe to cry once in a while was not so bad after all? At least that’s what the Mental Healer had suggested whom Harry had been forced to see for some weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts. What was his name again? Harry tried to remember. Something Irish…

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Coming,” Harry shouted. His heart skipped a beat – maybe Draco was looking for him? No, no – he needed to stop thinking about Draco.

When he opened the door, Harry was flabbergasted. He stared at the middle aged man in front of him, round face, slightly balding and very kind eyes.

“Good morning, Mr Potter,” the man said.

“That’s… that can’t be true! I’ve just been thinking about you! Healer O’Malley, that’s your name, isn’t it?”

“That’s my name, quite right, Mr Potter,” O’Malley smiled at Harry, “I hope you thinking of our sessions is not a bad sign?”

“No, not at all,” Harry shook his head, “it’s just such a coincidence… what are you doing here?”

“Well, Headmistress McGonagall has hired me. She has tried to recruit a qualified Healer for some time now, preferably a Mental Healer. Many students and members of staff are still traumatized by the war and she wanted to make help available, if needed. Finally the Board of Governors permitted the expenses.”

“So… you’ll stay at school permanently?”

“At least for this school year,” O’Malley nodded, “we’ll see how that works… I just wanted to say hello to you before McGonagall is going to introduce me at lunch-time… thought you might want to know in advance.”

“That’s very considerate of you,” Harry smiled. Why had he been so reluctant to talk to that man a few months ago? O’Malley was clearly a kind and trustworthy person.

“Did you go to Hogwarts, Healer O’Malley? Yes? You might know the castle well enough but we’ve had some major changes this summer – maybe you want to have a look around before lunch? I could give you a quick tour, if you want?” Harry suggested and the Healer agreed.

They started with the second floor common room. Harry knew what to expect when he heard the music. He opened the door and – yes, there was Draco playing the piano, in fact he was the only student present. The others were probably outdoors on such a fine day.

Draco turned around, said good morning and smiled at Harry who's pulse quickened - but just a little bit.

“Hello - good to see the musician who has entertained me all morning,” the Healer replied, “name’s Joe O’Malley and I’m living downstairs, just below this room – so I’ve heard you play!”

Draco flushed and said, “Sorry – I’ll use a silencing charm from now on!”

“No, please don’t! I’m very fond of music! I’ll let you know, if it ever bothers me, promise, ok?”

Draco shrugged and looked at Harry.

But Harry quickly turned away.

“What a nice common room you’ve got… and the view is even better from up here!” O’Malley stepped closer to a window.

Suddenly Harry remembered his promise to talk to Daisy in the morning. When he looked at the painting of Wizard’s Wood he found the Imagic-girl in a slumber.

“Last night was very exciting… for Daisy,” Draco said in a low voice, “she talked about it all morning – I’ve… she’s been waiting for you.”

“Well,” Harry cleared his voice, “I was busy. I’ll make it up to her.”

Draco nodded with a puzzled look.

While O’Malley still admired the view, Harry kept his eyes on the painting –mainly to avoid Draco’s– when it suddenly hit him. Yes!

That’s why Daisy had always felt slightly familiar! Finally he remembered what his subconscious had wanted to tell him for the last two weeks! And he knew exactly what he needed to do this afternoon.

Without another look at Draco, Harry addressed O’Malley, “Well, shall we continue our tour?” and they left quickly. 

They went downstairs to the new sports area on the ground floor and Harry praised the gym, especially the pool. When the Healer confessed to being a really bad swimmer, Harry offered to help and added, “But of course we have a professional swimming instructor as well, it’s the Muggle Studies teacher, Professor Laddley – he’s just a bit… unpopular at the moment.”

O’Malley nodded, “I’ve met Professor Laddley… Harry, I know what has happened and I may tell you –the Headmistress explicitly said, that I could– I’ll work with him regularly… and not on my swimming skills. But this is confidential information and I’m not going to say another word... understood?”

Harry felt stunned. Of course McGonagall had said she wanted to find professional help for Laddley… but why in Merlin’s name did she have to hire the very same Mental Healer Harry had been seeing?


	25. Girl in White

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More than one hundred kudos!  
> Thank you all for reading along & for spreading the word!

“Harry! Where have you been all morning?” Hermione cried when he sat down for lunch.

Once again Ron and Hermione were the first students at their table, due to Ron’s larger-than-life appetite. “We’ve been worried about you! McGonagall wanted to see you at breakfast and we still have to finish our homework and –”

“I’ve talked to the Headmistress already,” Harry interrupted, “and –sorry Hermione– I’ve got no time for homework this afternoon, I need to check something in the village.”

He scooped soup into his bowl although he was not particularly hungry. Soup was maybe a good choice for his empty and slightly upset stomach.

“You’re going to Hogsmeade?” Ron asked while loading his plate with roast and potatoes. “Can I come too? Sound’s much better than finishing my Charms essay…”, but after one look at his girlfriend he added, “… oh well, I guess it’s going to be the essay instead.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ron,” Hermione snorted, “if Harry needs us, home-work will have to wait – and don’t forget your greens!” Turning to Harry she added, “Do you want us to come with you?”

Harry grinned. Hermione might be an insufferable swot sometimes, but she was also one of the most daring and adventurous witchards he knew.

“I’ll be fine by myself. What I need to do is not dangerous at all, promise!”

“That’s the most unlikely promise I’ve ever heard,” Draco Malfoy said sitting down face to face with Harry at his usual place. “Seriously, you are always putting yourself in danger, Harry. Whatever you have in mind – don’t do it alone!”

Ron gawped at Draco but Hermione smiled knowingly at Harry and said, “Right you are, Draco!”

Harry’s heart pounded but he managed to keep his voice steady and tried to appear bored, “Since when do you care for my safety? Anyway this is none of your business, Malfoy.”

Draco blushed and looked, as if Harry had smacked him.

Hermione gave Harry a suspicious glance and said, “No need to be rude, Harry… but of course it’s your decision, whether you want some company or not.”

Harry sighed and pushed his soup away. Draco’s hurt look made him immediately feel guilty – but why actually? He was just trying to gain some distance from a guy he had fancied for a while, a guy who found Harry _disgusting_.

He desperately needed a distraction and was glad to see Cass and Ginny approaching. They were holding hands and looked radiant with joy.

“Hi everybody,” Ginny’s smile was wider than ever, “what’s for lunch? I’m starving!”

Ron gave his sister a stern look, “Care to share your feelings with your brother? Honestly, I’d feel less like an idiot, if you had told me about this –“ he pointed at their interlaced fingers, “instead of getting the news yesterday evening like the rest of the school.”

“What?” Ginny frowned, “I most certainly don’t have to report my feelings to you! And if you wanted to know what’s going on in my life – you could ask me once in a while how I’m doing!”

“Come on, Ron,” Neville fell into his seat with a thud, “we all have seen this coming for weeks.” He grinned at Ginny and Cass, “I think you’re a cute couple.”

“Thank’s Nev,” said Cass and her cheeks turned pink.

 _Blushing all the time, just like her cousin,_ Harry thought. He looked across the table. Draco seemed to contemplate his empty plate.

 _‘Eat something,’_ Harry silently pleaded, _‘anything, you’ve been losing weight since school started –‘_

Suddenly Draco raised his eyes and looked at Harry, who wanted to draw his eyes away – but was unable to do so until Draco dropped his gaze and started to fill his plate for once. Harry exhaled. At least Draco’s appetite seemed improved lately.

“Well, I’ve not seen this coming!” Ron said, “Last thing I knew, Ginny was with Harry – and now he’s gay and she’s with a girl! It’s confusing!”

“Are you blaming me for your sister’s coming out?” Harry stared at Ron.

“Come off it! Of course not!” Ron shook his head, “it’s just… I had no idea until yesterday evening… about them.” He nodded at Ginny and Cass. “And now I feel like a total moron.”

“You’ve always had the emotional intelligence of a door knob,” Ginny snorted, “you didn’t even see your own relationship coming – while everybody else knew for ages you were meant to be with Hermione.” She pulled a face at her brother.

Hermione turned towards Harry, “What did you recommend some weeks ago concerning bickering siblings? It is unwise to interfere?”

“Very,” Harry nodded solemnly before he addressed Ron again, “If it’s any consolation to you – I also had no clue about Ginny and Cass until yesterday evening.”

“Seriously?” Ginny stared at her ex, “but… I thought you of all people would get it?” Her eyes darted from Harry to Draco.

Harry ruffled through his hair and cleared his voice, “No, I didn’t… I thought… well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, this isn’t about me. It’s about you two and I’m happy for you, so – congrats'!” He smiled at the girls.

Ron slapped Harry’s shoulder. “Thanks for backing me up – that’s my mate! As Harry has been clueless too, I’m at least not the only door knob at this table! And if you all claim to be emotionally advanced, you’ll have to be more considerate with us door knobs and tell us what’s going on in plain English now and then.”

“You ask us to gossip? I don’t do gossip.” Draco shook his head.

“No, no – it’s only gossip as long as you’re talking about somebody else, right? What I’m asking for is to tell me about your _own_ feelings, like – ‘ _I’m madly in love with…_ ’ whoever, I don’t know… hey, what’s up, Malfoy? Why are you cringing? _Are_ you madly in love with someone?” Ron looked confused.

Draco cringed indeed and squeezed his eyes close.

Ginny and Cass giggled, while Neville had a coughing fit.

Hermione padded her lover’s knee. “You’re actually sweet, Ron, but this is not how it works. Just leave it, ok?”

Ron sighed and looked at Harry, “At least _you_ will tell me before you hook up with some bloke, right? Just give me a fair warning… let’s say a week before you start snogging?”

Harry groaned, “Oh shut the fuck up!”

Draco just stared at Ron and the others laughed their heads off.

Still chuckling Cass wiped her eyes, “I had no idea that door knobs could be so entertaining.”

***

Harry was really glad when everybody was done with lunch and he could leave their table without giving the impression of running away. Which he had seriously considered. The conversation had been a hilarious mixture of absurdities and embarrassments and he was quite relieved to have the afternoon all to himself. But – maybe he did want some company for his trip to Hogsmeade after all? Preferably someone who would neither talk nor ask stupid questions? He decided to fetch Otto and accompany his pet in the air on a broom. Otto was usually fast asleep until lunch time but ready for fun in the afternoon.

Harry flew up to the owlery and peeked inside through one of the glass-less windows. He was delighted to see Hagrid standing in the midst of very excited birds who were all trying to gain his attention and to catch scraps of raw meat he was feeding them. Hagrid really was many animals’ favourite human being. 

“Hi Harry, come to see your feathered friend?” Hagrid shouted over the agitated cries of dozens of owls. He pointed at Otto who immediately fluttered towards Harry to sit at his shoulder. The familiar grip of sharp claws was a little bit painful but still very comforting.

“Yeah, I want to fly into the village and thought Otto might join me,” Harry shouted back before he addressed his pet, “You’re not riding on my shoulder up in the air, my friend! Don’t you remember you’ve got wings and can fly on your own?”

Hagrid chuckled. “He’s funny, your Ottie, I think he’s just messing with you!”

“Right. That’s just what I need! Everybody’s messing with me nowadays,” Harry grumbled and with one final wave at Hagrid he turned around and pointed his broom towards Hogsmeade. Otto hooted and took off. He looped around Harry and obviously invited his master to race with him.

“You want a challenge, Otto?” Harry shouted, “Alright, you can have that.” He grinned and shot up in the air. Otto trailed behind him for a few seconds before the excited bird managed to catch up with Harry and immediately fell into a breathtaking dive towards the ground. And with a roar Harry dived right behind his owl. Both of them shot towards the lawn and turned upwards at the very last moment. Full of adrenalin Harry laughed wholeheartedly, this was so much better than any roller coaster ride! On and on they went – up in the air and down towards the ground – until Harry was breathless and Otto seemed satisfied as well.

Harry sighed and manoeuvred his broom into a sensible flying altitude towards Hogsmeade, Otto at his side. Why was it so much easier to cope with animals than with humans? Language, the ability to communicate by talking to each other, should make it easier to get along, one would expect. But words could also be very confusing and hurtful – his thoughts trailed back to Draco’s conversation with Blaise in the early morning. What he remembered most clearly was Draco saying ‘ _disgusting’_. This word alone had triggered all those awful memories… yes, words could be painful.

They crossed the borders of Hogwarts. Flying smoothly over tree tops Harry and Otto left the castle behind. He would leave Hogwarts for good in only a few months time... to do what exactly?

Harry contemplated his career options… he had longed to become an Auror for years now… but… working with animals must have many advantages, he thought, animals did not talk back. Maybe Hagrid’s position of Hogwarts’ game-keeper was preferable over many well-paid jobs?

At least Harry need not make his decision based on salaries, thanks to the vault full of gold his parents had left him and Sirius’ house. He could even make a living without a job for several years… maybe he should take a gap-year after school and travel? How he would love to see other countries – or other counties at least.

The silhouette of Hogsmeade appeared and Harry lowered his altitude. He landed safely outside of the village. It was considered bad manners to fly into other peoples’ property and he certainly did not want to offend the man he intended to visit. Otto on his shoulder, broom in one hand, Harry walked towards the Hog's Head Inn.

***

The pub was even more crowded than last time. Harry was just building up courage to go to the bar, where a guy with a bruised face talked intently to the grotty black-haired bar keeper, when he realized that there was another employee around. A girl of probably Harry’s own age, with strawberry blond braids was scrubbing furiously one of the grimy tables. Harry approached her and she readily led him through the back door and upstairs to Aberforth’s private rooms.

Harry knocked and seconds later Aberforth Dumbledore opened the door.

“Harry,” he smiled, “good to see you! What brings you up here?”

Again Harry was surprised by Aberforth’s looks of good health and openness. The end of the war and maybe his involvement in the battle against the dark side of magic had done him good apparently. 

“May I come in for a moment? It’s a confidential matter…” Harry said. He had talked to McGonagall and Flitwick before lunch about his plan and they had given their consent to taking Aberforth into confidence. Harry was supposed to tell him just as much as was necessary about the Imagic issue.

When the door closed behind him, Harry approached the painting above the fire place where a sweet looking girl in an old-fashioned dress sat contently on a comfortable chair.

“Hi Ariana,” Harry smiled at the girl’s Imagic. Yes, this was exactly why Daisy had always seemed familiar – even their white dresses were so very much alike.

Of course Ariana was all alone in her portrait, Albus Dumbledore’s Imagic could hardly have swaped places like that, from the Ministry Archives to the Hog’s Head Inn. Harry sighed. Admittedly he was still a bit disappointed. He had hoped without reason to find the familiar bearded face at her side. Well, that would have been too easy. Plus Aberforth most probably would have reported the continuous presence of his brother’s Imagic to the Headmistress.

Ariana smiled back but kept quiet.

“You know of course, she hardly ever talks,” Aberforth said. “Never was much of a chatterbox and since the war she stopped speaking altogehter, I haven’t heard her say a word for months.”

Harry nodded, “Yes, you told me when I first saw her on that night of the battle… I assume the secret passage to the castle is gone?”

“Completely destroyed, it’s probably for the best.” Aberforth shrugged. “The inn was in ruins after the Death Eaters were done with it, many items were gone… I was so glad that Ariana’s portrait survived, but Imagics are pretty indestructible of course.” 

“The Room of Requirements has not been rebuilt either,” Harry said, “and that’s where the passage ended.”

Aberforth laughed. “The Room of Requirements will turn up sooner or later, I’m sure of it!”

Harry stared at him. “What?”

“Hogwarts has a life of its own, haven’t you realized that by now? The castle can sprout rooms… like a tree might sprout new branches. I’m sure if there are students desperately in need for a secret room to hide in, the castle will provide for them, same as it did in the past.” Aberforth grinned, “But I guess you didn’t come to see me to discuss Hogwarts’ architecture – although this is a fascinating subject.”

“Right, Mr Dumbledore,” Harry hesitated for a moment before he went on, “I wanted to ask you about your brother’s portrait. I’ve been told, Professor Dumbledore hated to sit for paintings and that his portrait at the Headmistress’ office is therefore the only one of him that exists?”

“Aye,” Aberforth nodded.

“But I assume –as your family is pure-blood– your parents commissioned a Filius Stick of him?”

Aberforth looked thoroughly perplexed. “Well, that’s an interesting question! All the more as this was one of the very few occasions during our childhood, when Albus was the one to give our parents trouble and not me. He completely refused to have the damn stick painted, can you believe it! I sat for mine but Albus was stubborn, very unlike his usual good behaviour.”

He snorted, “Turned out, he always knew he would never get married to a girl… I guess, you’ve heard about his attachment to young Grindelwald?” He pulled a face. “To fancy guys is one thing – but to pick the meanest wizard available…”

“I do too,” Harry gulped, “prefer guys, that is…” silently adding _, and I’ve also a knack for picking the worst possible love interest._

Aberforth nodded, “Makes sense. Maybe that’s another reason why Albus was always so fond of you… he saw a lot of himself in your character, I’m sure… but why this sudden interest in pure-blood traditions and Magical Arts, Harry?”

“Well, Mr Dumbledore… the Headmistress agreed that I inform you but you have to understand this is highly confidential. Your brother’s Imagic is missing and we have no clue where he is. He was most certainly abducted while all the paintings of Hogwarts were at the Ministry Archives last summer.”

“I see,” Aberforth looked grave, “and you thought he might have moved to his own Filius Stick? I didn’t even know that these objects had enough magic in them for moving in and out… interesting.”

“It’s possible, I’ve seen it happen,” Harry said recalling his last visit to Tonk’s cottage, where he had found the Imagic of young Bellatrix Black had been removed from her sisters’ Sorores Cup, “and Professor Flitwick confirmed that it could be done, if the miniature is really well painted. But I also wanted to check Ariana’s portrait because any painting of her might tempt your brother’s Imagic to visit… is there by any chance another portrait of your sister?”

“No, there isn’t. She only sat twice for a painting – for this one and for her Filia Cup.”

With a sudden gleam of hope Harry stared at Aberforth, “Ariana has a Filia Cup? Where is it?”

“Well, our parents ordered it, although at that time it was already pretty obvious she would never get married. And I kept the cup after her death, same as the portrait. It was a relief to have at least two keepsakes from her… it used to stand right here, on the mantelpiece of the fireplace. But it is gone. It went missing when the Death Eaters raided the inn. I searched for it in the ruins, believe me, I’ve searched for days. It is lost.”

***

“Kreacher fetched the nasty book, just as Master Harry Potter told him to,” the House-elf said with a deep bow and handed the ancient Cyclopedia of Mean Arts from the Black library to Harry.

“Thank you very much, Kreacher,” Harry smiled at the elf, “I hope everything is alright at Number Twelve?”

“Oh, Master Harry Potter Sir! Very dirty, the noble house was, so very very dirty! But now is clean! Kreacher scrubbed every room of course! Master’s fine house would be in much better state, if Kreacher were allowed to take care of Master’s household!” Kreacher stared accusingly at Harry.

“But I don’t want you to be all alone, Kreacher,” Harry explained, “don’t you like living with other House-elves at Hogwarts better than being all by yourself?”

Kreacher looked confused. “ _Like better?_ What Kreacher likes best is doing his duty! And Kreacher’s duty is to look after Master Harry Potter and Master’s house! Simple!”

“Maybe you want to reconsider your orders, Harry, after school is finished?” Hermione said smiling at the House-elf, who gave her a grateful look.

It was Sunday evening and they were at Hermione’s and Ron’s rooms. Harry had returned from Hogsmeade and informed the Headmistress of his latest, rather fruitless enquiries at the pub right after dinner, before he joined his friends at their cosy apartment.

Harry had to admire Hermione’s skills not only as a witch but also as an interior designer. Their place no longer looked anything like ordinary dorm bed-rooms, but like a young couples’ first shared lodging – which it actually was.

“Right,” Harry said, “we’ll see about that, Kreacher. But as long as I am at Hogwarts, I want you to stay here as well, ok? I need an ally at the kitchen in case I’m starving,” he grinned at the elf, who puffed up proudly.

“How about close friends starving?” Ron asked innocently.

“Starving? Excuse me!” Hermione glared incredulously at her boy-friend, “You’ve just had a huge slice of ham and a leek pie, not to mention a load of chips –“

“Okay, okay – I’m not starving right now, but I could well be starving someday soon,” Ron grumbled and Harry found his friends’ bickering as entertaining as ever.

“Kreacher will provide for Master’s friends anytime Master Harry Potter wants him to,” the House-elf said earnestly.

“That’s my guy, Kreacher, thanks,” Ron slapped the House-elf on the back which gave Kreacher the hiccups.

“Sorry about that!” Ron apologised and Kreacher gawped at him wide-eyed. He was clearly not used to receive apologies from a wizard.

Harry laughed. “Well that’s settled! Thanks again Kreacher, for the book and also for taking care of Number Twelve… maybe you could go there once a month to check everything’s fine? What’ you think?” Harry said.

“Once a month – _hick!_ – Master Harry Potter Sir, that would be – _hick!_ – sufficient,” Kreacher nodded eagerly.

“Alright, once a month you shall go to London and report to me afterwards, ok?” Harry smiled encouragingly at the elf. “And another thing... Kreacher, why did you call the book nasty? Did you try to open it?”

Kreacher looked abhorred. “Of course not! – _Hick!_ – Kreacher would never – _hick!_ – never ever open any book without Master’s order! But Kreacher had to clean after the – _hick!_ – book many times, when Master Malfoy tried to study the book but did not know how to open it – _hick!_ – properly.”

“Draco studied this book?” Harry gasped.

“No! – _Hick!_ – Not young Master Draco!”

Harry exhaled with relief.

“Kreacher never saw young Master Draco Malfoy at the noble House of… House of Master Harry Potter Sir!”

Hearing the House-elf refer to Number Twelve by his own name, Harry was oddly touched and realised that he must indeed have gained Kreacher’s full loyalty.

“But – _hick!_ – Master Taurus Malfoy studied this book – _hick!_ – for weeks, for months,” Kreacher nodded eagerly, “he brought the book with him, just a few years after Master Regulus…” the House-elf gulped, his huge eyes filled with tears and he even forgot to hiccup.

“I am so very sorry for your loss, Kreacher,” Harry said solemnly, “I know you were very close to Master Regulus.”

Kreacher nodded and gulped down his tears. “Master Regulus died… and then they took Master Sirius away and Kreacher was all alone for a long time… until Master Taurus Malfoy came by with the nasty book and tried to work out how to open it properly. Kreacher could have told him how to do it, of course, but Master Taurus never asked.”

“Of course,” Harry said to his friends, “why would a proud pure-blood ask a House-elf for advice…”

“So you were right, Harry,” Hermione said eagerly, “this one is actually the Malfoys’ copy! Taurus must have studied C.O.M.A. in secret, because he wanted to present any findings as his very own inventions. And he could not examine the book at the Manor, considering the mess he was making by opening it the wrong way. Hence he went to the empty house at _Grimmauld Place_ and used the Blacks’ library for his research.”

“Makes sense,” Ron smiled at his girlfriend, “and makes one wonder, what else we should ask our elfish friend…” He turned to Kreacher again, “You haven’t by any chance come across some Imagics in unusual places? Here at Hogwarts I mean?”

“Brilliant,” Harry muttered. Why had it never occurred to him to ask Kreacher! He wanted to slap his own face for being as ignorant as Taurus Malfoy.

“Kreacher has not seen any Imagic where it should not be,” the House-elf answered eagerly, “but Kreacher works mostly in the kitchen.”

“Which is very important work, bless you, my friend,” Ron grinned.

“But Kreacher could ask the other House-elves who clean the rooms, if Master wants him to?”

“That’s an excellent idea, Kreacher,” Harry said, “yes, please, ask your colleagues and report any unusual sightings directly to me, okay?”

Kreacher nodded eagerly, bowed down low and disappeared with a ‘Crack!’.

“He’s really growing on me,” Ron grinned, “don’t you agree, Master Harry Potter Sir?”


	26. Gryffindor's Porter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patience is a virtue. (We're getting there, promise #Drarry)

For the next few days Harry concentrated all his energy on the investigation, which was a convenient way of keeping any unwelcome thoughts about Draco Malfoy at bay – although Draco was still one of the suspects and Harry still believed him to be innocent.

The Fat Lady was the only Imagic that officially had been declared missing. Still among the students rumour had it, that hers was not the only disappearance. Ginny had heard a panic-stricken fifth-year claiming that seventeen Imagics, nine House-elves and three students were missing already! Thus it was only a matter of time until the Ministry and the School Board were forced to tell the truth.

Concerning the investigation Harry’s line of thought focused on Ariana’s missing Filia Cup. He was quite convinced that this was important, that someone had taken it and used it to lure her brother away. Dumbledore’s Imagic would not be fooled easily into a trap painting, he argued, but Ariana’s Imagic, even a miniature one, could tempt him to be careless.

The obvious thing to do was to ask Ariana’s Imagic about it, as Imagics were supposed to keep track of all the portraits they could switch into. So of course Harry had asked her as soon as he learned that the cup was lost. But Ariana just smiled and kept quiet. Even Aberforth did not know how to make her talk.

The cup had gone missing at the day of the Battle of Hogwarts. As it was holding an Imagic, it was as good as unbreakable and could not simply have been crushed. The timing of its disappearance alone was suspicious to Harry. He told the Headmistress about his theory and insisted on enquiries about Laddley’s whereabouts during the Battle. But he had to concede reluctantly, that his least favourite teacher could hardly have nicked the cup, while holding his position in Geneva, still in service of the Ministry. The other new teachers were also in the clear for that night. Tharros had still been abroad and Josh had spent the night on duty securing the Ministry at the time of the battle. Another dead end apparently.

Laddley resumed giving lessons, the official explanation for his short absence being, that he had been ill. And Harry continued to attend swimming classes as he had promised the Headmistress to do. He did not particularly enjoy being around Laddley of course, but he enjoyed swimming – and he also felt obliged to protect the younger students by watching Laddley’s behaviour closely.

Tommy also had taken up swimming again and Harry found that he really liked the young Gryffindor student. It was so nice to be friends with another gay guy – without any risk of unwelcome romantic feelings as Tommy was very devoted to Tavin.

After Thursday’s swimming class Harry accompanied Tommy back to Gryffindor Tower. When they approached the door to the Gryffindor common room, for a moment Harry was surprised to see the Imagic of Severus Snape where the Fat Lady was supposed to be.

“Ah, Mr Potter, Mr Hillborogh, I bid you a good evening,” the Imagic said very politely, “would you please be so kind as to name the present password?”

“Frolicking!” Tommy said with a grin.

“Frolicking indeed,” the Imagic nodded and the door swung open.

“Tommy, I’d like to talk to Professor Snape for a bit, ok? You just go ahead and I’ll join you in a few minutes, promise,” Harry said. He remained in the corridor waiting until the door had closed after Tommy.

“Thank you, Profes– sorry, Headmaster, for your support of Gryffindor! I wasn’t even aware that you were still stepping in for the Fat Lady – can’t some other Imagic take over? You are surely missed at the Headmistress’ office!” Harry felt guilty for Snape’s situation, as he had been the one to rope the Imagic into this.

“No need to worry, Mr Potter, I’m actually enjoying this service position very much,” Snape’s Imagic bowed his head in reverence. “First of all it is very interesting to watch the students come and go… Gryffindors are a most fascinating tribe indeed. Secondly I would not want to miss the opportunity to hear some excellent gossip – turns out, the Fat Lady is immensely popular, many other Imagics drop by her painting regularly. Which makes my present position perfect for investigating.”

“Oh… glad to hear it… did you find out something useful already? Any leads on the black poodle for instance?”

“I’m afraid not,” Snape’s Imagic looked grave, “but I have asked Sir Cadogan to ask around and he reports to me every day, so we might still get lucky.”

The Imagic hesitated before he continued, “Mr Potter, please allow me to bring up another topic – may I ask you how Mr Malfoy is doing? I hope he is well? You seemed rather… close when we met a few weeks ago at your common room, that’s why I’m asking.”

Harry flushed. He had tried to ignore Draco as much as possible for the last few days and of course there were no more early morning encounters at the common room. At first Draco appeared struck by Harry’s changed behaviour, but lately he seemed to accept that Harry kept his distance. And that was just what Harry wanted – distance.

Embarrasing enough, both Hermione and Ginny had made cautious attempts of asking Harry what had happened between him and Draco. Harry had managed to sidestep their questions pretending he had no clue what they were talking about, but grudgingy he had to aknowledged the fact that the girls must have figured out his feelings for Draco. Just like Severus Snape’s Imagic obviously.

“Draco… I really… we’re not…” Harry stuttered, “I guess he’s alright but I’ve quit the early morning–… whatever, we don’t talk much lately.”

“What a pity,” the Imagic sighed, “I had such high hopes for your friendship. I really do believe that you have very much in common and could complement each other perfectly.”

Harry just stared at him. He was seriously lost for words.

“Please forgive me for asking, I certainly don’t want to intrude – and I also don’t want to keep you any longer from your friends, your presence is eagerly awaited at the common room for sure – ” the Imagic motioned to open the door.

“No, wait a second,” Harry said quickly, “I’ve… maybe you could talk to Draco? He’s still a suspect, maybe you find out something useful… for the investigation?”

Snape’s Imagic raised one eye-brow and Harry knew that he wasn’t fooled for a second.

 _No use fooling myself either,_ Harry thought. He ruffled his hair and exhaled.

“Fine. Truth be told, I’m worried. Draco… he’s clearly troubled over something, in fact he looks unwell. He doesn’t even pay attantion at class – which is totally out of character! And Cass… she’s so engrossed with Ginny at the moment, I don’t think she’s aware that Draco hardly ever talks to anybody…” his voice trailed off.

Severus Snape looked very much as if supressing a smug grin and Harry blushed.

“Very well,” the Imagic nodded, “I shall see what I can do… maybe I can find a replacement for my present position and make a visit to the Wizards’ Wood tomorrow morning, assuming that at least Mr Malfoy has kept his morning routine.” He paused for a second. “I am quite pleased that you are so concerned… for the investigation, that is.” He smirked.

Harry groaned. Why had he seen fit to confide in Severus fucking Snapes Imagic of all people? Damn his bloody talent for spontaneous yack! 

The Imagic sighed. “You need not worry, Mr Potter. I shall be discreet.”

“Well that’s reassuring…” Harry murmured, “if that’s all for now, I’d rather… you’know?” He gestured vaguely at the hidden door.

“But of course,” with a polite nod Snape’s Imagic opened the door and Harry stepped inside.

The Gryffindor common room was packed and everybody cheered when he entered. The news of Harry Potter’s visit had spread quickly and more and more students were hurrying down from the dormitories. Harry grinned widely, it was really nice to get such a warm welcome.

“Over here, Harry!” Ginny called at him. She was sharing one old wing chair with Cass and patted at an empty chair next to theirs. Tommy and Tavin slouched on the rug in front of them.

“Good to see you again, Harry!” Tavin shouted. “Everything alright with the swimming team?” He looked a bit concerned as if Tommy had not been able to dispel his lover’s worries about Laddley’s behaviour.

“Everything’s fine, we’re all glad Tommy’s back in the pool,” Harry grinned at the boys and took a seat.

“Harry, I’ve just got an owl from the Burrow – Mum and Dad are totally ok with me dating Cassy,” Ginny beamed, “they’re glad I told them and Mum writes _‘we just want you to be happy’_ – I wasn’t really worried, mind you, but it’s still good to be officially out.”

“Lucky you,” Tommy nodded, “I mean, not just you, Ginny – but all of you from witchard families… the magic world is much more supportive of queers than the Muggle world. My parents totally freaked out when I told them two years ago. It was like _‘First you’re a wizard, now you’re gay – what next!?’_ ”

He made it sound like a joke but still Harry’s heart cringed. It must have been hard for Tommy.

“Yeah, but they’ve come around nicely, his mum practically adores me,” said Tavin.

“One could also say, you suck up nicely,” Tommy teased.

“Can’t help it if she’s fallen for my natural charm,” Tavin grinned.

“Well, many witchard families might be open-minded nowadays,” Harry said, “but we all know that some traditional pure-bloods still discriminate against queer witches.” Harry said giving Cass a quick glance.

She kept quiet and lowered her eyes.

Suddenly someone tapped at Harry’s shoulder. When he turned around he saw Christie, the tiny girl from the swim team.

“Harry, do you have a date for the Halloween ball?” she asked.

Harry stared at her. Did she ask him out? How was he supposed to react? He certainly did not intend to go with an eleven year old girl!

“Don’t look so shocked, Harry,” Christie giggled, “I’m just asking for my brother… he’s a fifth-year and he’s really nice… a bit shy, but still nice, believe me!”

Harry exhaled with relief which made his friends laugh.

“Thanks for the offer, Christie,” Harry said, trying to keep a serious face, “I appreciate your effort but I have plans already, sorry.”

“Okay, never mind,” Christie chirped and ran off. She was immediately surrounded by a group of little girls who giggled animatedly.

“You have a date?” Ginny raised her eye-brows. “You’re bluffing, right? Or who is he?”

“I didn’t say I have a date, I said I have plans!”

“Let me guess – you’re plans include being tagged along by my beloved brother and his girlfriend,” Ginny snorted.

“Going with ones best friends is nothing to be ashamed of,” Harry said defensively. “You make it sound as if Ron and Hermione were bad company!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry, I love them both to bits – just don’t tell Ron, I said that.” Ginny smirked. “But… it’s a ball, for Merlin’s sake! You’re supposed to… you know, at least flirt a bit, fool around and what not!”

Harry pulled a face.

Ginny sighed. “It’s pathetic – superhero Harry Potter is unable to find himself a date for the Halloween Ball!”

“Don’t call me superhero!” Harry snapped back, “you sound just like Draco–“ he stopped abruptly and cringed.

“Leave him alone, Gin,” Cass looked concerned.

“Well, you might want to reconsider Christie’s offer, Harry,” Tavin said, “I know her brother, his name’s Carter and he’s actually quite a babe… handsome face, nice bottom and friendly as well… for a Ravenclaw, that is.”

“Hey, since when are you looking at other guy’s arses?” Tommy protested.

“The comparison just makes me adore your buttocks all the more,” Tavin said batting his eyelashes at his lover and making them all laugh. 


	27. A Staggering Surprise

“Alright, you two,” Ron sounded exhausted, “you’ve been repeating yourselves over and over again for days – can you just hold it for now? I’m bored!”

Harry and Hermione stared at him for a moment, before they both started to grin. It was Friday at lunch-break and – thanks to one of Hermione’s famous warming charms – they were sitting outside in the grounds although it was freezing cold. They wanted to discuss the Imagic issue in private.

Harry insisted on the importance of Ariana’s missing cup while Hermione kept talking about C.O.M.A. – and as fascinating as both topics might be, they had not made any progress with both of them.

“It’s Friday for fuck’s sake,” Ron blurted, “we’ve just had a delicious lunch, now it’s one more lesson to go and that’s D.A.D.A., our favourite – so stop sulking for once and start looking forward to a glorious weekend! It’s Halloween! We’re going to have ball!” Ron looked eagerly from Hermione to Harry. “Honestly, give the investigation a break!”

“Yeah, the ball,” Hermione sighed, “I can’t believe they did not cancel the ball after what happened last Saturday. I think this is a tremendous security risk.”

“I wouldn’t mind, if the ball were cancelled,” Harry added. "Halloween has never been my favourite time of the year..." 

“Right. Of course.” Ron looked embarrassed, “Forgot about that."

"Never mind, I can't remember clearly anyway... it's just... " Harry shrugged. He was well aware that the real reason for his lack of enthusiasm about the ball was his falling out with Draco. Since last Sunday all dancing related past-times had lost any appeal for him.

"But, Hermione... a security risk? I think you’ve lost perspective!" Ron went on. "So far the school is short of four Imagics. Well, inconvenient as that might be, it does not put any living, breathing person in jeopardy – and apparently the Headmistress is not too alarmed either.”

He wrapped his arms around Hermione and said, “We have the most amazing costumes prepared! Hell, I’ve even shaved my legs already – I sure want to go to that ball with you!”

Harry laughed. He had seen Hermione’s and Ron’s costumes already, they were into full cross dressing with Ron wearing a rather sexy gown and Hermione in tails. They had also helped Harry to choose his own costume. But without the prospect of dancing with Draco, or at least talking to him, the ball no longer had much appeal for Harry. He had to remind himself that it was his very own choice to stay away from Draco Malfoy. As far as possible at least, though he still had to stare at Draco’s head while in class, and he still had to face him while eating – if Draco turned up at mealtime.

“Fine, let’s get back to the castle,” Hermione said with a look at her watch, when suddenly out of nowhere Headmistress McGonagall appeared at their side.

“Nice warming charm,” she said with a smile, “Ms Granger’s work I presume?”

Hermine blushed for being praised and nodded.

“So that was you, Headmistress, the tabby cat I saw just a moment ago?” Harry asked.

“Yes, that was me,” she sighed, “I have to practice my Animagic regularly but whenever I change inside of the castle, Mrs Norris throws a tantrum… but this is not what I wanted to talk about.”

She looked stern. “The Ministry and the School Board cannot keep the whole matter secret much longer. You might have heard some of the ridiculous rumours already that spread like fiendfyre?” She snorted. “Right. We will go public with a press conference at the Ministry on Monday. Meaning this weekend gives us the last opportunity for any secret enquiries – which we intend to make good use of. Kingsley’s team will search the castle thoroughly for evidence, specifically for hidden paintings, while all the older students and staff are at the ball. They will search every private room – including yours.

“I trust you completely, all three of you, that’s why I’m telling you in advance. I know that none of you is hiding a trap painting. But… if you happen to have made some changes to your rooms, which you do not want to be known about, it might be wise to remove them for tomorrow night.”

She gave both Hermione and Ron a meaningful glance. The two of them looked mortified. Harry grinned to himself. Obviously it wasn’t easy to hide anything from the Headmistress.

***

„You’ve done really well, all of you,” Professor Jordan smiled at his class. Today he had taught them a variety of spells to uncover hidden dangers before entering unknown territory. With some of the spells the eighth-years had been familiar before and even the new spells were easy enough. Each student had mastered all the tasks in the end. Now Josh Jordan was standing at the back of the classroom next to Harry’s desk and cast a quick _Tempus_.

“We’ve got half an hour left – so it’s question time! Does anyone have problems with other defence spells? Now would be the time to ask and to practice some more.”

Hannah raised her hand.

“Yes, Ms Abbott?”

“It’s my Patronus, Professor,” Hannah said, “I can’t get it to talk. Never could.”

Ron groaned. He must have hoped for an early start into the weekend, Harry thought.

“First of all, be assured, this is not an unusual problem,” Josh smiled at Hannah, “and there is an easy enough trick to solve it. Please tell us, what shape your Patronus takes presently?”

“It’s a black and white cat.”

“Very well, that is convenient.”

He walked to the front of the room and addressed the class at large, “Cats, dogs and horses are the most usual shapes of Patronuses, mine’s a black stallion for example. These animals are probably common because many of us are familiar with them. And luckily –in terms of Ms Abbott’s problem– we are also familiar with their ways of giving noise.”

He asked Hannah to join him at the front. “Ms Abbott, close your eyes for a moment and recall a cat’s miaow… have you got it? Is it clearly in your mind? Fine. Now call your Patronus while concentrating on the miaow, ok?”

“ _Expecto Patronus_!” Hannah shouted eyes still closed.

A silvery cat with dark patches sprang from her raised wand and – _“Miaow!”_ said the Patronus in Hannah’s voice.

Hannah opened her eyes and beamed at Josh. “Whoa, that was easy!”

“Exactly. You might repeat this exercise several times for a few days and then gradually try to concentrate on what you want it to say instead of ‘Miaow’. I am sure you can show us results within the course of next week.” He smiled at her. “Thank you Ms Abbott, you can sit down now. Anybody else having problems with their Patronus?”

When Hermione’s hand shot up, Harry feared for having hallucinations – until he realized, that she was merely holding up Ron’s arm.

“Ms Granger, Mr Weasley – what is your problem?”

“I don’t have one,” Ron grumbled.

“Yes, you do!” Hermione insisted, turning to Josh she added, “He also can’t get his Patronus to talk!”

“Hermione, I told you, it’s changing, that’s why! Mum said it was the same when her cat turned into a weasel,” Ron rolled his eyes, “bad enough, that mine is changing and not yours…”

Some of the students giggled and Blaise whistled enthusiastically.

“Quiet please!” Josh shouted, before he addressed Ron with a smile, “Your mother is quite right of course. For the time it will take any Patronus to change, it won’t deliver messages. I take it you had no trouble with it before? Well, then you should be fine again as soon as the change is completed.”

“Really?” Hermione looked doubtful, “I couldn’t find anything about this in a book!”

“Well, Ms Granger, plenty of witchards’ knowledge isn’t kept in books. It’s oral tradition, inconvenient as that might be for Muggle-borns. In this case there is a simple explanation for the lack of literature about the changing of Patronuses – it’s a rather recent phenomenon.”

He addressed the class at large again, “I get it you’re all aware why Mr Weasley’s Patronus is changing?”

Many students giggled and Seamus blurted, “Because he fancies Hermione!”

“No, Mr Finnigan, that is incorrect.” Josh looked stern.

The class fell silent.

“It takes more –much more– than having a crush on someone,” Professor Jordan said earnestly. “Only a deep and wholehearted attachment will change a Patronus. We might simply call it love. Most often the process will start when two people get married. Alas sometimes even the most devoted partners keep their former Patronuses, hence different Patronuses are not necessarily a sign of a bad relationship. At any rate the change is rather unusual for such a young couple as are your colleagues, but as we all know Ms Granger and Mr Weasley have been close friends for years, that explains the change.” He paused for a moment.

“But why, you might ask, did Patronuses rarely change in former times? The reason is simple enough: because all kinds of romantic attachment were far less important than they are today. People rarely got married because they were in love. Marriages were often arranged or entered for practical reasons, so the feelings involved were far too weak for any Patronus to change. If it happened at all, it was mostly for switching ones political allegiance or general mindset, which still can happen nowadays. For example, if a former Death Eater’s Patronus were to change, it might be a sign of true reform. Any more questions on this topic?”

“Yes,” Ron said with flushed cheeks, “why is my Patronus changing and not Hermione’s?”

“Because you’re such a girl!” Blaise chirped with a high pitched voice.

Nobody laughed.

“Ten– no, twenty points from Slytherin for this sexist comment, Mr Zabini,” Josh Jordan said with a deadpan stare and Blaise had the decency to blush.

“Of course this has nothing at all to do with gender, character or –another prejudice– relationship issues. It simply depends on the animals involved. I can make an educated guess that Mr Weasley’s former Patronus was a pet whereas Ms Granger’s is a wild animal?”

“Exactly,” Hermione said eagerly, “my Patronus has always been an otter and Ron’s used to be a Jack Russel.”

“At the moment it looks like a Jack Russel with an otter’s fur,” Ron grinned again.

“As a rule, wild-life animals will never change into tame animals,” Professor Jordan explained, “it will always be the other way round. Same is true for herbivores, they will never change into carnivores. Interesting, isn’t it? Patronuses are a most fascinating topic, don’t you agree?”

He clapped his hands, “Any more questions? Yes, Mr Zabini?”

“Malfoy can’t conjure a Patronus,” Blaise said gravely and Draco gasped.

“Strictly speaking, this is not a question, Mr Zabini… and none of your concern either,” said Professor Jordan.

“And it is so not true!” Draco protested vehemently. He seemed to be furious.

“Well, in that case, Mr Malfoy, you might simply want to demonstrate your abilities?”

Draco blushed and said, “No need to. I’m doing fine. No problem at all.”

Josh Jordan raised his eye-brows. “So let’s see it.”

“No.” Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“I’m afraid I have to insist, Mr Malfoy. This is a matter of safety, I have to make sure every eighth-year is able to master the Patronus spell,” he said with finality and beckoned to Draco.

“Consider yourself dead,” Draco muttered to Blaise before he got up. When he stood in front of the class he was even paler than usual. He exhaled deeply and raised his wand with a trembling hand.

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ” he shouted – a magnificent silvery shape sprang from the tip of his wand.

Harry gasped.

It was unmistakeably a stag. Slightly smaller than Harry’s and with fewer antlers – but without doubt the same animal.

The class fell silent. Everybody knew that Patronuses of this shape were very rare and Harry’s stag was famous. Several students turned around to look at Harry and started to whisper. Finally Draco’s Patronus dissolved into thin air.

Harry felt totally – completely – utterly stunned.

Professor Jordan cleared his voice. “I see. Thank you, Mr Malfoy. A very fine Patronus indeed.” He cast another _Tempus_. “Well, I think, it’s time to close this lesson. Class is dismissed except for Mr Zabini who will come with me to my office to discuss detention.”

“What?” Blaise shouted. “What have I done? And it’s dinner time soon!”

“Is it? Pity.” Josh gave him another stern look. “I’m afraid you’ll miss dinner tonight. Maybe next time you think twice before you try to expose another student. Come on, off we go!”

Blaise grumbled but followed the young teacher out of the room. So did most of the students.

Draco walked slowly back to his desk, fell into his chair and stared into space.

As usual Harry’s place was next to Neville and right behind Draco. He looked at the back of Draco’s head and was unable to move.

Neville gave Harry’s shoulder a quick pat and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something – but thought better of it and shook his head. He grabbed his stuff, grunted something like, “See’ya” and left.

Ron and Hermione stood next to the door waiting for Harry just like they always did. Harry gave them a quick glance, still he did not move and neither did Draco in front of him. Ron gawped at them and seemed inclined to fetch Harry – but Hermione took her boyfriend’s hand and led him out of the class.

They were alone once again.

Harry’s mind raced. He was full of questions but at the same time unable to speak. He suddenly remembered that Charms lesson, when they had practiced changing the colour of clothes… he had feared of giving his feelings away by creating that perfect shade of bluish green for Draco. And now Draco’s feelings had been exposed… or had they?

Harry tried to recall Draco’s Patronus from those days when they all had first practiced this spell. It could not have been a stag at that time? Surely he would remember as much… What exactly did this mean? How had Josh put it? ‘ _A deep and wholehearted attachment, we might call it love’_ – could it be true, that Draco Malfoy _loved_ him? Or did he fancy someone else, who’s Patronus was by mere chance also stag-shaped? No, that would be too much of a coincidence, which must mean –

“Before you ask,” Draco said in a surprisingly calm voice without turning around, “no, it wasn’t always a stag. It used to be a whippet… a nice dog actually.”

“But… you… when…” Harry exhaled deeply, struggling for words, “when did it change?”

“About two years ago.”

“Two years ago!” Harry gasped, “But – we were fighting all the time! I nearly killed you!”

“No you didn’t. You hurt me – but only after I tried to torture you.” Draco shrugged but still stared at the front of the room. “Fighting you… it was the only way of keeping my distance, I guess.”

“But… you don’t even like me?! Just a few days ago you said, I’m disgusting!”

“What?” Draco turned around wide-eyed, “I never said anything like that!”

“Yes, you did. Sunday morning, at the common room… when Blaise suggested to… you know… to hook up with me.“ Harry gulped.

“Oh fuck! You heard that?” Draco squirmed and ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m going to kill Zabini for good this time! So that’s why you avoided me all week? Oh Merlin… Harry –believe me– I would never do that to you!”

“But – why not? If you… you like me? Why wouldn’t you want to get involved with me?”

“Indeed why not?” Draco shook his head and his voice was hoarse when he continued, “Why not? For a thousand reasons. Because I’m a mess. Because you deserve much better. Because I would ruin your life. Because I’m a reformed Death Eater on probation. Because you’re the best person in the world. Because you don’t need me. Because staying away is the best thing I can do for you… d’you want me to continue?”

“But this is ridiculous! This is not your decision to make! You only have to ask yourself, if you want to be with me! That’s it!”

Harry stared at Draco. He had never seen Draco so… exposed. As if all the hidden feelings, the carefully protected weaknesses were suddenly on surface. As if he had stepped out of a suit of armour, naked.

Draco shook his head and kept quiet.

“Draco, listen… you don’t get to decide for me. Because I… I’ve made up my mind and I want… ” Harry exhaled deeply. “I want you.“ There – he had said it.

Draco’s eyes were full of surprise and his face became all soft for a moment. His lips trembled – until he bit them hard, closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.

“No, Harry. No you don’t, believe me. I am your worst idea ever.” Draco got up and left without another look at Harry.

***

Silence. Harry stared at the empty chair in front of him. He hardly comprehended what had just happened. Not only had Draco more or less declared his feelings for Harry in public, he had even admitted to being in love with Harry for two years! And in spite of that he refused to get involved with Harry, had turned him down for absurd reasons.

Harry groaned and banged his head on the desk. This was so fucked up! If two people were attracted to each other, if their feelings were mutual, that should be reason enough to feel delighted and exceedingly happy! But Harry felt nothing like that! Instead he felt deflated, confused and – frustrated, actually.

Two years for fuck’s sake! Unbelievable!

Two years ago he had dated Ginny. And despised Draco. Or had he?

Harry remembered his compassion, when he had found Draco sobbing in that damn bath-room – well, at least until Draco had tried to curse him. He remembered Ron’s and Hermione’s constant complaint about him being obsessed with Draco. Harry had justified his focus by insisting that _‘Malfoy was up to something’_ –which had of course been true enough– but to be honest: his reasoning had been mostly pretext, a perfect excuse for staring at Draco, for watching his every move, for following him around hidden under his invisibility cloak… Fuck! He had more or less stalked Draco!

And last year – naturally Harry had been totally consumed by his fight against Voldemort, hardly the time for romantic feelings, but still… he had been delighted, when Draco had refused to rat him out that evening at the Manor and not just for the obvious reason of wanting to survive, but also because he desperately wanted to trust Draco. Finally, at the night of the Battle of Hogwarts, he remembered his uttermost panic when Draco was very nearly killed by Fiendfyre – Harry hadn’t hesitated for a second to risk his own life for Draco. And in the end it had been Draco’s wand that enabled Harry to destroy Voldemort… How comfortable Draco’s wand had always felt in Harry’s hand… Fuck! Harry groaned and his cheeks burned when it dawned on him how that sounded.

What had Draco said? Fighting as a means of staying away? Well, apparently Draco had not been the only one doing that.

Harry moaned. What was he supposed to do now? His stomach rumbled. It was probably dinner time already. Should he walk over to the great hall, sit at his usual place and pretend nothing unusual had happened? What would his friends have to say about it? And most importantly – would Draco show up for dinner or rather skip another meal? Harry sighed – once again he had to find out by carrying on. He got up and left the class-room.

***

When he reached the entrance of the great hall, he stopped to brace himself. One look at their table confirmed his guess – Draco wasn’t there. His eyes met Cassy’s instead and she immediately jumped up and stormed towards Harry.

“Where is Draco?” she shouted and even pushed him slightly, “what have you done to him?”

“Whoa – calm down! I don’t know where he is and I didn’t do him any harm, ok? We talked and he left, that’s it,” Harry said defensively.

Cass crossed her arms in front of her chest and Harry assumed, that was her way of refraining from punching him.

“Hermione just told me what’s happened at your D.A.D.A. class, that everybody knows about his… his Patronus… and now you’ve turned him down, apparently.” She stared accusingly at Harry.

He shook his head and sighed, “No, I didn’t. In fact it’s the other way round… he rebuffed me for ridiculous reasons.”

“Oh no,” Cass’ face fell, “not this shit about him being unworthy again?”

Harry nodded, “Wrapping it up, that’s it.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” she ran her fingers through her hair, just like Draco did when he was embarrassed, “I’m sorry I lost it. So you fancy him too?” She smiled when Harry nodded. “Well, I so much hoped you might… one day. He’s been sweet on you for ages. I’m just worried about him… he’s not doing well lately…”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry said, “I’m worried too. But I can’t do anything about it, if he refuses to let me!”

“Well… you could fight for him.”

“Fight _for_ him?” Harry shook his head. “When Draco is the one standing in his own way, I’d have to fight _with_ him again! And I don’t want to do that anymore… he seems to have made up his mind.”

“I don’t think he has,” Cass said carefully, “let me rephrase… you could persuade him.”

Harry stared at her. If Cass thought they still had a chance, Cass being the one who knew Draco better than anybody – well that was enough reason not to give up. He felt hopeful again.

“If you say so… I’m famous for my persistence in the face of insurmountable obstacles anyway.” He grinned.

“You might even find the obstacle in question not as insurmountable as you think.” Cass smiled, “well… let’s have dinner, shall we?”

They walked towards their table side by side when she added, “I’m sorry, Harry. Please don’t hold it against me that I – you know…“

“That you punched me?” Harry grinned at her, “Nah, I won’t. It’s actually good to know that I’m not the only one worrying about that bastard… have you noticed, how skinny he’s become lately?”

Cass nodded, “I’ll take a sandwich to his room after dinner. I’ve been doing this quite often, whenever he skipped a meal.”

They reached the eighth-year’s table and all conversation stopped abruptly. Harry had the distinct feeling, he knew what his table mates had been talking about, but still felt less awkward about it than he had expected to.

“’Evening, everyone,” he said and sat down reaching for the soup tureen.

Hermione looked worried, “Everything all right, Harry?”

He smiled at her and shrugged. “I guess so...”

One glance at Ron confirmed that his best pal was still digesting the latest news, he looked utterly bewildered. Harry could not help grinning.

Ron coughed, “Where’s… you know… Malfoy?”

“In his room, I guess,” Harry said starting on the soup.

“So… you’re not… you know?” Ron stuttered, “Fuck’s sake, I never thought I might even consider this idea one day!” He looked positively shocked by his own thoughts.

Harry felt the eyes of all his friends on him and was touched by their curiosity. Well, he could do nothing about it. They would simply have to stay tuned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just revised several chapters to eliminate a mistake: Luna is of course a member of Ginny's cohort and not Harry's. Sorry about that. And a special 'Thank you!' to the splendiferous Potter expert M.G. ;)


	28. Persuasive Patronuses

Harry knew exactly how to proceed when he woke up. He stretched – a good night’s rest really did work wonders. It had been surprisingly easy to fall asleep last evening, in spite of having no idea what to do about Draco. And now it was crystal clear. He got up and looked out of the window. The lawn around the castle was covered in frost – he better put on warm clothes for what he intended to do.

Fifteen minutes later Harry stood in front of Draco’s door, woollen coat in his hand and heart pounding. He took a deep breath and knocked.

Still in his dressing gown Draco opened the door. His eyes went wide when he saw Harry. Oh Merlin, how Harry had missed Draco’s early morning looks, hair a bit ruffled, face flushed and less on guard than at any other time.

“Good morning, Draco,” Harry smiled trying to sound more relaxed than he actually felt, “I have a request, something I want to do but I need your help with it, if you don’t mind?”

“’Morning,” Draco looked nervous but nodded, “of course I’ll help… what shall I do?”

“First of all get dressed and put on a warm coat as well, I’ll wait for you at the common room, okay?”

Just a short while later they both stepped out of the Guest House. Harry led the way to a group of tall trees in the middle of the lawn, which seemed like an outpost of the Forbidden Forest. That’s where he stopped, pulled his wand and pointed it at the lawn in front of them. 

“Draco,” Harry said quietly, “please conjure your Patronus again, will you?”

“What for?” Draco blushed deeply, “You just saw it yesterday, I assure you it’ll be still the same.”

“Good,” Harry smiled, “otherwise I would be very disappointed. You’ll see for yourself why I want you to do this. Trust me, ok?”

Reluctantly Draco also pulled his wand and when he shouted ‘ _Expecto Patronus’_ , Harry did the same.

Two silvery stags sprang from their wands, galloping around – until the Patronuses suddenly became aware of each other. They froze for a second – and then they lowered their antlers and charged with force. Draco drew a deep breath, when their antlers crashed and silvery sparks flew up in the air. The stags fought and pushed. Harry’s stag was bigger and stronger, but Draco’s was more versatile – neither was able to conquer the other.

After minutes of tied fighting, the stags withdrew from each other. Both trotted away, stopped, stared at each other – and charged again. The colliding antlers sent sparks up in the still dark sky and the Patronuses fought without one being able to wear the other down. Again they desisted from each other, put some space between them – and charged once more. Their third fight was as close as the first and second, it was obvious that neither of them could win this duel.

And suddenly they stopped fighting. Both silvery stags took a step back and ever so slowly Harry’s stag turned sideward and presented his vulnerable flank to his opponent.

Harry and Draco both held their breath. Would Draco’s Patronus stab Harry’s?

No, he didn’t. Instead the slender stag made a surprisingly elegant little jump, turned around and ran off. Harry’s stag followed in an instant. And now the silvery animals played with each other, chasing and dancing around each other in wonderful harmony.

Harry was mesmerised by this spectacle. Not sure what to expect, he had just hoped for a sign, for something nice to happen and this was truly wonderful. Once again trusting his instincts had proved to be the right thing to do.

On and on the stags galloped around the lawn waving a pattern of silvery sparks into the frosty grass, until they finally seemed to tire. They slowed down and trotted side by side towards their masters until the silvery shapes stopped just a few feet in front of Harry and Draco. Their antlers touched once again, but this was no longer a fight, this was a caress and the sparks flew higher and more brilliant than before… and then, perfectly synchronous they turned away and trotted side by side towards the forbidden forest. Only when their shapes reached the edge of the forest did they dissolve into thin air.

What an extraordinary sight of beauty! Harry exhaled deeply. The whole scene had taken a good ten minutes – never before had Harry’s Patronus lasted for such a long time! He looked at Draco and was not surprised to see, that his eyes were shining suspiciously.

“I wanted to show you, what it could be like… the two of us… together,” Harry said softly, “do you really want us to miss out on this?”

“Harry,” Draco’s voice was full of emotion, “it’s not that simple.”

“I never said it’s simple, relationships never are! It’ll be anything but easy, because we’re both stubborn. There will be misunderstandings and fights, but also –“ he nodded towards the spot where the Patronuses had disappeared “– this! Don’t you think, this is worth some struggle?”

They looked intently at each other and just when Harry was about to move closer, Draco turned away and said, “I never expected… I don’t know, Harry… I need some time to think about it.”

***

Harry dreaded to be questioned about Draco when he met with Ron and Hermione after breakfast. But his friends seemed to sense that he did not want to talk about it, neither of them mentioned Draco. They sat in Harry’s room, did some homework together and pondered the still unsolved mystery of missing Imagics – but carefully stepped around the issue of Harry’s changed relationship with his former adversary. Several times Harry caught Ron gawping at him, but never did his best pal dare to ask what was actually going on. He was quite grateful for their reticence as he would not have known what to tell them. Harry felt he had done all he could do and now it was Draco’s turn to make up his mind.

Still his heart skipped a beat when he saw Draco at lunch-time. Both of them barely said a word, although the others at their table chatted and joked a lot, all excited about the upcoming ball. When finally Blaise Zabini had the nerve to ask, who would be Harry’s date for the evening, the tattle stopped. Everybody at their table except Blaise seemed to hold their breath. When Harry calmly responded, that he didn’t have a date, but would accompany Ron and Hermione instead, he could feel Draco’s eyes on him.

Like the previous weekends, Harry spent some hours of Saturday afternoon with his pet in the air, which was once again an excellent distraction. Otto was in high spirits and they dived and raced until Harry was out of breath. Flying back to the owlery, he was so exhausted, that he even pondered the idea of a little nap before changing into his costume – when suddenly Otto shot ahead, shrieked and entered the owlery in a whirl. Harry was curious, what his pet had spotted and carefully manoeuvred his broom into the bird-house – to find a very excited Otto sitting on Draco Malfoy’s shoulder, nuzzling his blond hair.

Harry climbed down from his broom and watched speechlessly.

“He seems to remember me from the Manor’s aviary,” Draco said, “when he was still a hatchling. I was glad when I heard that you had picked him from amongst his siblings… he always stood out.” Otto had finally messed up Draco’s hair to his satisfaction and flew back to his master.

“I can well imagine, he did,” Harry grinned, “he’s such fun to have around, I really appreciate your mother’s present –,“ when he saw Draco’s satisfied grin, he suddenly realized, where Narcissa Malfoy might have gotten the inspiration for this very special gift.

“It was your idea, right? You suggested giving me a young owl, didn’t you?”

Draco nodded. “I knew you had lost Hedwig and thought you might enjoy having a pet again.”

“Well, thanks, you were perfectly right.” Harry smiled, realizing with great satisfaction that Draco had been so attentive about Harry’s concerns that he knew Hedwig’s name.

They stared at each other for a moment until Draco said, “Do you have a minute? I’d like to… you know… explain something.”

“Of course,” Harry sat down in one of the open windows, legs dangling.

Draco took a seat next to Harry but with a good two feet between them. They both watched birds flying in and out of the owlery in silence for a few moments. Harry’s heart beat excitedly but he kept quiet. Whatever Draco wanted to tell him, it seemed to be difficult for him to bring it up.

Draco cleared his voice. “What I said yesterday evening… you know, about why you better not get involved with me, because I’m just a mess and you deserve much better… well, that’s only part of the truth. There’s other stuff as well, things you should know… about me… oh, fuck – this is harder, than I imagined…” his voice trailed off.

Harry stared at Draco who seemed to be shaken. 

“You’re scared,” Harry stated, “you’re simply too scared to hook up with me.”

“That’s one way of putting it… you have to understand, Harry, the only witchards I’ve ever been close to are Cass, our Nanny and my mother. Most certainly not my father or any other man… hell, I never even had a close pal!” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tidy up the mess Otto had left.

“Don’t be afraid, I’ve never been with a guy either,” Harry said softly, “it’ll simply be something we explore together!”

Draco snorted and shook his head. “That is so totally not my point… quite the contrary in fact, I’ve been with plenty of guys… in a purely sexual way of course. To be honest, I’ve been a proper slut.”

Harry gulped and felt a pang of jealousy. How could that even be true? Draco could hardly have fucked around at school without everybody knowing about it – he must have found lovers outside of Hogwarts... Harry stared at Draco trying to digest this information.

“Yeah, now you’re shocked, aren’t you? I’ve had casual sex with a number of guys. I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had never tried to live like my father but I did… at least for a while.”

Draco paused a moment before he continued, “Cass said, she told you about the pure-blood way of being gay? Fuck whomever you fancy but never ever get close to anyone?” He glanced at Harry but quickly turned away when their eyes met. “Appalled, are you?”

Harry shook his head. Whatever he felt, he was not appalled. Surprised, yes, even disappointed – but at the same time he was grateful, that Draco was candid about it.

“Well you should be, because it’s disgusting. And that’s what I did, that’s what I am familiar with. I know how to fuck but I have no idea how to… how to be close to a guy. Truth be told, it scares the shit out of me, the way I feel about you. That’s why I kept fighting for distance two years ago. But this year, with Cass at my side, Cass who became friends with you so easily – I thought, maybe we also could be friends… just friends, you know? And it worked for a while, didn’t it? Until Blaise, that bleeding git, had to expose me.”

“Well, I’m glad he did,” Harry said with feeling. “And I’m also glad you told me about your past… that you trust me enough to share something you’re not proud of. Tell you what – I can deal with plenty of shit, as long as you’re honest with me!”

He smiled at Draco and was relieved to see, that one corner of Draco’s mouth rose promisingly as well.

“So…” Draco sighed, ”that’s another reason why I said you deserve much better. Actually I think Jordan would be perfect for you. He’s kind, honest… and good looking as well. If anybody deserves you, it’s him.” He snorted. “Have I mentioned that I hate him? And don’t pretend you’re not interested – I know you are!”

“Forget about Josh! I might have had a little crush on him when we first met, but… I don’t want perfect,” Harry said feeling bold, “I want you. Your past doesn’t change that.”

Draco shook his head. “You don’t know what’s good for you, obviously.”

“Yeah, maybe I don’t. But… tell you what, life is not worth living without a challenge and –disregarding Tom Riddle– you’ve been the biggest challenge of my life so far.”

“Thanks for that comparison,” Draco sneered with a grin. “Well, I’ve given you a fair warning… if you still insist – how about going to the ball with me?”

“As a date?” Harry’s heart skipped a beat. That question came rather surprisingly after all of Draco’s concerns.

“No. As my valet.” Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes of course, as a date… but if you prefer playing gooseberry with the Roniones, I’ll understand.”

“No! I mean – yes!” Harry beamed, “I’ll totally be your date for tonight – I’ll pick you up at quarter to five, ok?”

“You have no idea how this works apparently! _I_ have asked _you_ out – so I get to pick you up, understood?” Draco grinned.

Harry threw back his head and laughed. He laughed, flooded with relief and feeling as if he wouldn’t stop laughing soon, not in a long time.

***

Harry floated through the rest of the afternoon smiling. Being way too excited for a nap he stopped by Ron’s and Hermione’s rooms. His friends were busy removing all the changes they had made to their place, when he broke the news, that he would not accompany them, but go with Draco instead.

Hermione beamed at Harry. “Good for you!” she said.

Ron shook his head in mock despair, before he started to grin. “Count yourself lucky, that Hermione explained it all to me yesterday evening, otherwise you could watch your best friend having a major heart-attack right now. Well, if you must… you are fully prepared for the worst, I hope? If this goes horribly wrong, at least I get to say _‘Told you so’_.”

“Which it won’t!” said Hermione with an encouraging smile at Harry. Suddenly she dropped her wand, which she had pointed at the newly mended wall between their rooms, and Harry found himself wrapped in a thight hug, her tuft of brown hair in his face.

“You’ll be fine,” she whispered, “I’m quite certain about it.”

***

Soon enough it was time to change for the ball. Harry had been quite clueless what to wear for weeks. A gown was out of the question. He had tried it but, unlike Ron, he felt totally uncomfortable in a dress. Ignoring the ball’s motto was also no option. In the end Hermione had saved him just a few days ago.

“Why don’t you wear a kilt, Harry? You’ve got nice legs and it’s not girlish at all,” she suggested.

And when Harry argued, that wearing a kilt was not really gender bending, she dispelled his doubts by saying, this were only true for Scotsmen. Lacking other options Harry had tried one on and immediately loved the feeling of scratchy wool on his bare thighs.

Now he put on his kilt, a crisp white shirt, black stockings and an emerald jacket. He was quite proud of his very own tartan, which he had designed using dark green, black and a fine strip of Gryffindor-red. Finally he suspended a black leather sporran at the front of his belt and –after a moment of hesitation– he not only put his wand in there but also his invisibility cloak.

Checking his appearance in the mirror he was quite satisfied. He tried in vain to do something with his hair. Well, if Draco had liked him for two years already, his messy hairstyle probably didn’t matter.

Finally it was half past four and Harry had nothing else to do than wait for his date. He stared at the hands of his watch, suspecting they were frozen in time, when a soft knock made him jump. He opened the door and –

“Hi,” Draco said self-consciously, “sorry, I’m a bit early…” his voice trailed off and they stared at each other incredulously.

“Hermione’s fashion advice?” Harry asked with a grin.

Draco nodded.

Harry laughed, “Looks like Blaise was not the only one feeling that it was about time for an intervention.”

They were dressed very much alike, except that Draco’s tartan colours were a softer. Harry especially liked the blueish green of Draco’s jacket, the very shade he had created for Draco during Charms lesson.

“Nice calves,” Draco said staring at Harry’s legs, “I think mine are actually way too thin for this…”

Which made Harry chuckle and soon enough they were grinning at each other like madmen. This was embarrassing and fantastic at the very same time. Harry ruffled his hair and managed to say, “Well, you wanna come in for a second? Or shall we just go to the hall early?”

Draco froze and Harry immediately regretted his question, thinking, _‘Oh shit! He’s afraid I’m going to jump him!’_

“I’d better not,” Draco said blushing, “I might not be able to keep my hands off you –”

Harry exhaled with relief, “– and then we would be terribly late,” before he added with a wicked grin, “not that I’d complain.”


	29. Having a Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Fanfare*  
> 'Let the Halloween Ball begin!'  
> *Fanfare*  
> (... ahem, Ladies and Gentlemen, comments? What about some comments?)

Harry felt his heart might burst with pride, when he entered the great hall with Draco at his side. _‘We’re just so, so right together,’_ he thought and several approving looks from other students confirmed his feeling.

The interior of the hall had been rearranged for the festivities. Most of the furniture was gone except for the staff table, leaving the middle space empty for the opening dance. Students had started to gather around the room close to the walls, which were draped in rainbow-coloured hangings. Candle-lit pumpkins were shining from above and trays with mugs of spiced apple juice floated around.

Harry spotted Tommy and Tevin, who were also wearing matching outfits – their bright pink tails clashed charmingly with Tevin’s ginger hair. They approached the other couple.

As soon as they were within earshot Tommy shouted grinning widely, “Congrats! Well, well – I’m never going to hear the end of it, because this one –” he nodded towards his lover, “– has insisted for years that you two are an item in the making.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Tevin slightly embarrassed and Draco snorted.

Harry wondered, who the hell had not guessed for ages, that they were meant to be with each other? _‘Could’ve given me a fucking hint!’_ he thought, being well aware that any such hint might not have been received kindly. He laughed too and –feeling bold– reached for Draco’s hand.

Draco froze for a moment. It was their first deliberate physical contact since the night of the Battle, when they had been huddled close on Harry’s broom, taking a flight from the burning Room of Requirements. When Draco finally squeezed back, Harry felt a shiver of excitement running through his body.

More and more students were spilling into the great hall and Harry marvelled at the variety of their costumes. Neville looked absolutely stunning wearing his usual leather jacket with a tight satin skirt and combat boots.

“Look!” Harry pointed at Luna and Dean with a laugh. Luna had combined an elegant yellow dress with a big bushy beard of Dumbledore-ish proportions, whereas Dean was wearing traditional dress robes with golden high-heels. Harry marvelled at Dean’s ability to walk in these shoes.

Draco shook his head, “These two really elevate clashing styles to an art-form.” He interlaced his fingers with Harry’s and smiled warmly at him, which made Harry’s heart jump.

Hermione and Ron entered. Hermione in black tails looked passably conventional compared to Ron’s sexy gown of cinnamon coloured silk, the plunging neckline showcasing his ginger-haired chest.

“Well, well, nicely done!” Draco addressed them as soon as they had joined them, “Who would have thought it possible, that Ronald Weasley might actually look quite hot!”

“Don’t you dare put your filthy hands on him, Draco,” Hermione pretended to be outraged. “Now that you’ve secured everybody’s favourite hero for yourself – isn’t he sufficient?!” She laughed and jokingly slapped Draco’s arm.

“Ouch! I’m not so sure about having secured Mr Potter for myself, but to call his affection _‘sufficient’_ is a major understatement,” Draco said dryly and Harry’s grin was as big as it gets.

“As much as I appreciate your jealousy,” Ron said kissing his girlfriend’s cheek, “I can assure you, I’d rather become a monk than let Malfoy grope me,” which made them all laugh.

“Thanks for the fashion advice, by the way!” Harry gestured at his and Draco’s outfit and winked at Hermione.

She smiled at him. “I just couldn’t stand it any longer… a certain amount of pining might be fun, but eventually it gets unhealthy.”

Harry spluttered, “Look who’s talking!”

Hermione nodded. “Exactly. First hand experience. That’s why I had to do something.”

Meanwhile all of the students had arrived and the space around the dance-floor was packed. The four house-ghosts floated amongst the flying pumpkins and Peeves, the poltergeist had the honour of starting the festivities by striking a huge gong, which made Harry’s ears ring. Several of the younger students shrieked excitedly.

To the sound of trumpets all members of staff entered the hall and took seats at their table. Harry was oddly touched to see, that Josh Jordan too was wearing a kilt. Flitwick looked dashing in dress robes displaying a pattern of colourful flowers and even Hagrid had wrapped an apron over his trousers for the occasion.

The Headmistress’ concession to the Ball’s motto was wearing a top hat instead of her usual pointed one. When she saw Harry standing next to Draco, dressed in similar clothes, she raised one eye-brow and smiled. Harry exhaled. He had not been sure what to expect – after all he was dating a suspect. Still, he had always assumed that McGonagall –just like Harry himself– believed Draco to be innocent.

Now she aimed her wand at one of the floating pumpkins which exploded and set off a cascade of rainbow-coloured sparks.

“Welcome!” McGonagall shouted, “Let the Halloween festivities begin!”

This was the signal for the opening committee of first-years to enter the hall two by two. They strode in time to some pompous classical music until they formed a circle around the room. All the first-years, boys and girls alike, were dressed in monochrome robes displaying vibrant colours of the rainbow. Right behind the kids walked Cass and Ginny.

“She’s cut her hair!” Ron said gawping at his sister.

“What a cute pixie,” Hermione marvelled, “this styling suits her really well!”

“It might suit her alright, but mum will go crazy, if she keeps it that way,” Ron stated.

Dressed in matching robes of dark burgundy, Cass and Ginny walked to the centre of the circle. The classical music stopped – and a fast tune of dance music started.

“Samba of course,” Draco muttered.

Cass and Ginny shook off their robes– they were now both dressed in rainbow coloured unitards, that didn’t leave much about their bodies for imagination, and started to dance. The crowd cheered as they whirled around the dance floor and the circle of first-years started a conga line. Soon enough many students joined them. Harry was squeezed into the conga line right behind Draco and with Luna at his heels. He was on cloud nine.

***

The afternoon tea dance was a roaring success. Harry had never had so much fun at any of Hogwarts’ festivities before and not just because he was now officially dating Draco Malfoy. In fact he didn’t even spend much time with Draco, because many students –boys and girls alike– wanted to dance with Harry and he didn’t turn anyone down. The dress code seemed to make kids more daring and even the first-years were not shy to approach their hero. Draco on the other hand was also a very sought after dance-partner because of his excellent skills. That is why the two of them hardly ever danced with each other. 

And Harry wasn’t even annoyed about other students keeping them apart. In fact it was quite a relief, as dancing with Draco turned out to be rather overwhelming. The novel sensation of physical closeness was way too thrilling to feel comfortable in public. Holding hands was exciting enough, but the touch of Draco’s hand on his back, Draco’s breath close to Harry’s ear, the smell of Draco –a hint of citrus and Mediterranean herbs maybe?– all of this made Harry’s body ache for more. He basically wanted to rip Draco’s clothes off, which was not an appropriate idea for an afternoon tea dance of course.

That is why Harry was content with looking at Draco for the time being. Every time they locked eyes, Harry’s heart jumped. Draco’s smile felt like a promise. Harry was all at once delighted, excited and occasionally a little bit embarrassed about the recurring bulge hidden behind his sporran.

Standing at the side of the dance-floor, watching Draco dance with Hermione, Harry marvelled again at Draco’s graceful movements. His posture was so elegant and he did not seem to be exhausted one bit.

Suddenly someone to Harry’s left cleared his voice and addressed him, “Hi Harry!”

With some effort he managed to draw his eyes away from Draco. There was an extremely handsome boy standing next to him, as tall as Harry, a head of curly blond locks and an admirable shoulder-to-hip ratio. Harry had seen him several times before, always surrounded by a bunch of friends. If he wasn’t mistaken the guy was a very popular fifth-year Ravenclaw.

“I’m Carter Whiteside,” the blonde said, “Christie’s brother. I wanted to apologize for the little rascal. I’ve been told that she asked you out for me a few days ago? Just so you know – that was totally her idea, I had nothing to do with it.”

Harry laughed. “No worries, Carter, it’s alright! Christie’s brother, huh? Well you must be used to her recklessness, I guess? Quite a handful, your sister… don’t get me wrong, I think she’s brilliant, a true Gryffindor.”

Carter seemed relieved. “She sure is! The rest of our family is all Ravenclaw, everybody acts with careful consideration – but that will not do for Christie. She’s just –“

“– a deardevil, right?” Harry nodded, “Yep, that’s how Gryffindors approach life!” He grinned at Carter. “I think it’s actually nice to have friends or family members from different houses. Diversity is not just about gender, you know… it takes all sorts of witchards. Wouldn’t it be boring, if we were all alike?”

“So you’re dating a Slytherin for a reason, I guess.” Carter winked at Harry.

Harry threw his head back and laughed. It felt so good to be officially dating Draco and not to deny his affection any longer.

Carter fumbled with his rainbow-coloured tie. He was wearing an elegant midnight blue suit, the tie being his only reference to the ball’s motto. “The thing about Christie is… she has adored you since she was little. When she was just seven, she insisted she would marry you one day. Now that she’s learned you’re gay, she has put it into her head to become at least your sister-in-law. That’s why she approached you… never mind that I had already asked a girl to be my date for the ball.”

Harry chuckled. “So you’re not even gay?”

“Well, I’m bi… I guess,” Carter blushed, “haven’t dated a guy yet but… I can well imagine I might someday.”

Harry smiled at the younger student and was just about to say something encouraging, when suddenly a very annoyed looking Draco appeared at his side.

“Having a good time?” Draco said, his eyes darted between Harry and Carter.

Carter looked embarrassed and kept quiet.

Harry did not know what to make of Draco’s attitude. Was he really jealous just because Harry simply talked to another guy who happened to be handsome? Harry did not know whether to laugh or to be offended.

“We were actually talking about Carter’s sister, she’s on the swim-team – a very confident girl,” Harry said, “she tried to pair Carter and me off, can you believe it?”

“I can very well believe it,” Draco said with raised eye-brows.

“Well…” Carter looked deeply uncomfortable, “I guess I’ll go back to my friends… have a nice evening, Harry, Draco…” He nodded and was gone.

“Seriously?” Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest and shook his head. “There’s no need to scare other guys away. Even if they chat me up, which –for your information– Carter didn’t even try.”

Draco shrugged with a crooked smile. “Can’t be careful enough. I’m up against an army of devoted fans, have to mark my territory.”

Harry shook his head, “No, you don’t! I’m not your ‘ _territory’_ and I’ve no intentions of cheating on you. Not tonight and not any other day either. Merlin, you’re dating a Gryffindor! You better learn to trust me.”

“Trust? Not exactly my strongest point…”

“Always good to develop a new skill,” Harry grinned. He reached down and brushed his fingers lightly against the back of Draco’s hand.

They stared at each other and Harry marvelled once more at the fact that Draco Malfoy was finally his date. Or maybe even his boyfriend? They probably needed to work out how to do this. But not tonight. Tonight they were just having a ball.

***

The festive dinner was served at seven. At the sound of another gong everybody had to clear the dance-floor and dozens of round gala tables appeared, loaded with food and set for thirteen guests each. To Harry’s disappointment the seating arrangement was different from everyday meals. He had been looking forward to sitting face to face with Draco, including the option of secret touches under the table. Instead he found his place next to a very agitated Christie – and Professor Laddley’s name tag! It turned out students of every year were placed at each table plus one member of staff. There were far more first- to sixth-years than seventh- and eighth-years, so everybody from Harry’s usual table was on their own among younger kids. At least Tavin was also sitting at Harry’s table.

He craned his neck to see where Draco had been put and smiled, seeing him seated between Healer O’Malley and Blaise’s crush Chastity.

“Good evening everybody… Mr Potter,” Laddley was the last one to appear at their table and nodded his greetings.

Tavin rolled his eyes at Harry and silently mouthed, “Tough lot, Harry…”

“Good evening, Professor,” Harry said. He was determined to be polite no matter what.

Luckily enough Christie was anything but shy. She chatted away excitedly and therefore spared Harry any trouble of finding something to talk about. She even included Laddley in her conversation as she seemed to be rather fond of him.

“Professor Laddley is such a good teacher, Harry,” she said earnestly, as if she were in a place to assess teachers, “pity you don’t take Muggle Studies.”

Laddley seemed to be amused by her praise. “I am very glad to hear you enjoy my lessons, Ms Whiteside, but as Mr Potter grew up with his Muggle relatives he surely would be very bored at my class.”

“I’ve heard you talk about international Muggle politics in your class, Professor Laddley,” Tavin said and Harry wondered what he was hinting at.

Laddley nodded, pushing his food around on his plate. “Yes. I’ve been working for the Ministry at the United Nations, which is the most important international organisation of Muggles. Quite interesting to see how they are running their affairs.”

“Is it true that the UN set great value on anti-discrimination of any kind?” Tavin asked innocently.

“Yes, indeed Mr Merry, they do,” Laddley looked startled for a moment, before he added to Harry’s surprise, “That’s one of the issues making Muggle studies worthwhile I suppose.” He gave Harry an insecure glance.

“I’m sure it does, Professor,” Harry responded. He felt inclined to smile encouragingly at Laddley. If Laddley was able to see the light of reason, Harry was willing to reassess his opinion of him. Especially today, with his heart full of joy.

Laddley gave him a grateful look. “By the way – I’m very glad you’ve decided to keep up swimming, Mr Potter. It’s such a fine sport! And thanks again for stepping in while I was… indisposed.”

“You’re welcome! Instructing was actually great fun. Blaise and Tommy thought so as well,” Harry said and Tavin beamed at Harry for bringing up his lover’s name.

Laddley nodded. “Yes of course. I’ll think of something for the three of you… to make amends,” he said to Harry’s amazement.

***

After pudding Peeves struck the gong a third time. This was the signal for the younger students to leave and the great hall was transformed once again. The gala tables were cleared away and the dance floor reappeared, now surrounded on three sides by boxes draped in burgundy velvet. The ground floor boxes were open to the dance-floor and another level of boxes upstairs was to be reached by two impressive staircases on both sides of the staff table.

In the turmoil of the latest reconstruction Harry lost sight of Draco. Searching for that signature blonde head Harry’s eyes were once again fooled by Cassy’s similar hair. She was craning her neck just like Harry, obviously trying to spot Ginny when Harry approached her.

“Ginny is over there,” he pointed across the dance floor to where his ex was standing with Ron and Hermione.

Cass laughed and hugged Harry tight. “Oh Harry, I’m just so, so happy for the two of you! And of course I’ll kick your ass, if you break Draco’s heart, superhero or not.”

“I expect nothing less,” Harry grinned back. “You don’t know by chance where your cousin has disappeared to?”

“Last time I saw him he was running upstairs,” Cass nodded towards the boxes on the upper level and winked at Harry. “He’s probably trying to secure a box as a hideaway awaiting his sweetheart to join him.”

Harry felt a violent flush creeping up from his neck. “Right,” he croaked, “I’ll have a look upstairs then… see you…” He turned around before Cass had another chance to tease him.

Harry’s heart beat furiously when he reached the first floor corridor behind the boxes – and certainly not for having climbed one flight of stairs. He strolled along peeking into the boxes. Most of them were not taken yet, the curtains open towards the corridor.

His heart skipped when he found one curtain drawn close. Taking his breath he carefully pulled the heavy fabric aside – to find Luna and Dean snogging. Luckily they were so engrossed with each other that they didn’t even realize his presence _. ‘If Dean likes the feeling of another person’s beard, does that make him a tiny bit gay?’_ Harry wondered. He closed the curtains carefully.

Downstairs the music started to play once more and Harry peeked into box after box. Halfway around the corridor, he stopped to watch out from yet another empty box. Downstairs couples were crowding the dance floor, Hermione and Ron amongst them. He tried to get a glimpse of the other boxes’ occupants from his present lookout, searching for a certain silver-blond fringe without luck before he continued his quest along the corridor.

Another drawn curtain. Harry hesitated for a second before he carefully moved the heavy fabric aside –

“There you are,” said Draco with a nervous smile. Hands at his hips he was leaning against a pillar at the side of the balustrade. Blonde hair shining in the light of numerous candles, grey eyes burning, elegant even in his kilt – the sight of him was dazzling.

Harry’s heart missed a beat, then his body started moving all of its own. He took two quick steps towards Draco, grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him.

Finally! Finally he kissed Draco… and his lips were soft… and tasted sweet… and this felt good, oh so very good. Draco gave a surprised little laugh before he pulled Harry close and slowly parted his lips.

Kissing Draco was far more exciting than any kiss Harry had ever shared before. Their tongues met – jolting a wave of arousal through Harry’s body. This was different, this was new, this was what he wanted. Harry groaned without moving away from Draco’s mouth.

Draco chuckled and drew back his head. “Wow, someone’s a bit needy, I guess?” He looked right into Harry’s eyes and carefully removed Harry’s glasses. “Has anyone ever told you, that you look incredibly hot, Mr Potter?” He put the glasses on the side table.

Harry sighed. “Has anyone ever told you to stop stalling?” he said and went for Draco’s lips again. Their kissing became more urgent, deeper. Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s hair – and yes, it was as soft and silky as he had expected it to be. Draco’s right hand was holding Harry’s neck, thumb circling his hairline, while Draco’s left firmly pressed against the small of Harry’s back. Yes, oh yes, Harry was definitely needy. He could not help groaning again which seemed to amuse Draco enormously.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, stop laughing at me,” Harry panted burying his face at Draco’s neck.

“I wouldn’t dare to laugh at you! At least not while we’re kissing… I’m simply delighted that you enjoy –“ a quick kiss for Harry’s temple, “ – snogging.”

“I enjoy snogging _you_ –”

“So it seems.”

“– so shut the fuck up and kiss me!”

Draco obeyed. He touched Harry’s chin with soft fingers to make him raise his face again. He kissed Harry’s lips, the corner of his mouth, his cheek. He lingered for a moment at the soft spot just below Harry’s ear before he kissed his way down Harry’s neck.

“You taste… fantastic… up here… makes me wonder…” Draco murmured.

Harry drew his breath and pressed his hips as close as possible at Draco’s but –

“Fucking sporrans!” he complained fumbling at his waist.

“I get your point,” Draco chuckled, “just give me a second…” and with swift fingers he moved both his own and Harry’s sporran aside. Yes, this was much better. Instead of two bulky bags Harry could feel… well, two other bulks. When he moved his hips tentatively, Draco responded immediately.

They kissed again and Harry positively melted – well, except for a certain, very hard part of his body. Tongues circling… sucking lips… careful bites. Their grinding became more urgent, faster, until – 

\- Harry broke free and hissed, “Fucking Merlin’s arse… I don’t want to come in my pants!”

Draco burst out laughing. “Seriously? _’Fucking Merlin’s arse’?_ Where did that come from?”

“No idea. Spur of the moment, I guess?” Harry grinned. “Glad you’re having fun by the way. I haven’t heard you laugh half as much in eight years.”

“Because I haven’t had half as much fun in eight years,” Draco said pulling Harry close again. “Hmm… what shall we do about… certain needs? How about we quit having a ball _here_ and start having a ball of our own in my room… or yours if you prefer?”

Harry’s sense of reality kicked in. “We can’t.”

Draco raised one eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“Because right now our rooms are being searched.”

“Searched? What are you even talking about?” Draco looked startled. “Searched by whom? And what are they looking for anyway?”

“Aurors… looking for the Fat Lady among other… things.” He saw no point in keeping the whole matter secret from Draco any longer and was pleased to see, that Draco was not in the least worried about the search.

“Well, if they must… I definitely have not abducted any obese female Imagic,” Draco smiled and planted another soft kiss on Harry’s temple, “on the other hand – if a nude painting of a certain superhero were amiss, I might well be a plausible suspect.” He gave Harry’s body a tight squeeze.

“Good to know,” Harry murmured before he dived into another deep kiss. Exploring Draco’s mouth with his tongue seemed like a necessity. This was good. This was it. This was not nearly enough.

“Oh, wow… wait… wait a second,” Draco pulled back. “It’s just… it’s getting a bit hard –“ Harry’s hips surged against Draco’s once more who immediately pushed back, “– I mean hard to ignore, isn’t it? Pity the Room of Requirement was destroyed.”

Harry gasped. What had Aberforth said? _‘I’m sure if there are students desperately in need for a secret room to hide in, the castle will provide for them’_ – well, he most certainly felt desperately in need.

“Brilliant idea!” Harry stepped back, grabbed for his glasses and started to tidy his outfit a bit.

Draco stared at him. “Meaning what?”

“The Room of Requirement! It’s supposed to return, if we need it,” Harry explained while trying to straighten Draco’s shirt without much success, “and I dare say we need it urgently. We simply have to search for it… oh, for fuck’s sake, your shirt is crumpled beyond hope –everybody will see what we’ve been up to! Let’s just –“ he opened his sporran, pulled out the invisibility cloak and threw it over their heads.

“Ah, the famous cloak,” Draco touched the delicate fabric lightly from inside. “We could even stay right here, hidden under the cloak, couldn’t we?”

“Only if you want to keep really, really quiet… which I certainly don’t intend to do.”

“Good point. You are surprisingly naughty, Mr Potter – I mean this in the nicest possible way, of course.”

“Well, I’m half Slytherin, what did you expect?” Harry took Draco’s elbow, pushed the curtains aside and started to walk them along the corridor.

They went downstairs, nearly colliding with Blaise and Chastity, who were climbing upstairs. Keeping close to the wall they found their way towards the main entrance unnoticed. When they were about to exit the great hall, the music stopped abruptly and so did Harry and Draco.

“Quiet everybody!” a booming voice demanded, unmistakably Kingsley Shacklebolt’s. “I am very sorry to interrupt but I have to make an urgent announcement concerning Mr Draco Malfoy. Mr Malfoy, you are asked to step forward immediately! The Auror Department has strong reasons to suspect you violated your probation regime. You are therefore ordered to turn yourself in for questioning.”


	30. A Fancy Lady’s Boudoir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite a looong chapter!  
> *Auntie, making amends for yesterday's cliffhanger*

Kingsley Shacklebolt's announcement caused a lot of commotion. As soon as the Headauror’s voice had faded the students started to talk and shout - within seconds the great hall was buzzing with excitement.

Draco fumbled with the invisibility cloak.

“What are you doing?” Harry whispered urgently, “Stop it! Or you will give us away!”

“I’ve got to get out,” Draco said not even trying to keep his voice down, “haven’t you heard Shacklebolt? I’m on probation, I have to follow his orders… however inconvenient the timing might be!” Luckily the noise level drowned his words.

“Are you insane?” Harry took Draco’s wrists, locked him into position and hissed, “You are not turning yourself in, do you hear me?”

Even in the dim light under the cloak Harry could see that Draco was perplexed.

“We have to get you out of here, and fast,” Harry murmured close to Draco’s ear, “trust me… I’ll explain everything as soon as we can’t be overheard.”

Still under cover of the Invisibility Cloak Harry wrapped one arm around Draco’s hips and moved them both towards the door, relieved, that Draco didn’t resist. They even brushed lightly against a girl but in the turmoil after Shacklebolt’s declaration she didn’t seem to realise.

As soon as they were safely out of the hall, Harry quickened their pace, turned a corner and pulled Draco into the nearest alcove.

“ _Muffliato_!” Harry murmured.

Draco had regained his spirits again and protested, “You are getting me in so much trouble, Potter!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake – listen to me! You are already in so much _more_ trouble than you imagine! Someone has set you up! And it’s not the first time they did it! You’ve been a suspect in this matter for some time now and if Kingsley interrupts the ball, they’ll have found some serious evidence against you!”

“What are you even talking about? I’ve done nothing wrong! At least not since after the war… so I have nothing to fear, right? If the Aurors think they have evidence against me, they must have made a mistake and I simply have to sort this out!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Do you really think everything will be alright, if you just waltz up to Kingsley and tell him they’ve made a mistake? Whoever has set you up did it clever enough. The Auror Department will not give you much of a chance to prove your innocence.” Harry grabbed Draco’s shoulders and shook him lightly. “They’ll ship you off to Azkaban faster than you can say _‘Expelliarmus’_! And I’ll be damned, if I let that happen!”

Now Draco looked positively shocked. “Azkaban? What for?”

“As far as I know? Violating your probation, abducting Imagics, destroying Hogwarts’ security system,” Harry said with a stern face. “I know you’re innocent and I’ll prove it, but until then you have to hide.”

Draco still looked unconvinced.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, we’re finally together… – I’m not going to loose you again!” Harry pleaded, “you have to trust me in this matter, please! I promise I’ll sort this mess out but until then, for the love of magic, you have to hide!”

Draco gave in and nodded, “Okay. But where?”

“At the Room of Requirement of course. Just go upstairs, search the corridor where it used to be and focus. You should be desperate enough, I’m pretty sure you will find it at your service.” Harry prayed that Aberforth was right about this. “I’ll meet you there as soon as possible, so make sure the room will let me in but nobody else, okay?”

“Right… if I manage to get there at all, that is. Most likely someone will spot me before I reach that corridor and report me to the Aurors.”

“What? No, no... don’t worry, the cloak works perfectly. You just have to make sure to be fully covered at all times.”

Draco stared at Harry. “The Invisibility Cloak? You want _me_ to use your cloak?”

“Or course, silly! I want you to be as well protected as possible!”

“Looks like you really care for me,” Draco said wide-eyed.

“Yes, I do. And I’m a Gryffindor, we're a pretty faithful lot. I won’t change my mind about you soon, Mr Malfoy.” Harry grinned encouragingly at Draco.

Draco was speechless for a moment before he cleared his voice and said. “Fine… so I’ll wait at the Room of Requirements for you – if I can find it. But what if I don’t? Or what if you can’t get away?”

“In that case come to my room in the early hours. You’ll probably have to wait until everybody has retired after the ball… let’s say if we have not been able to get together until two in the morning, we’ll meet at my room instead. I’ll leave the door slightly ajar as an all-clear. Then we can talk about the whole matter and I promise, I’ll tell you everything I know, alright?”

Draco nodded. “Will they let you participate in the investigation? Now, that everybody knows you’re with me?”

Harry sighed, “That’s why I have to hurry back. If they realize both of us are missing, they’ll assume we are together. So I’m going to pretend being clueless about where you are and to be only a little bit flattered by your attention but not really into you – that should do the trick.”

“You mean, you’ll lie for me?”

“Yep. Tell you what, there’s not much I’m _not_ willing to do, to get you out of this mess. If I have to lie, so be it.”

Draco grabbed Harry’s face and kissed him hard.

“Exactly,” Harry murmured into the kiss, “now get the hell out of here!”

Two minutes later Harry stepped back into the great hall. Although the music had started to play again, very few students were in the mood for dancing, everybody was still talking excitedly. While searching for his friends Harry picked up some very strange rumours.

“Malfoy tried to hex his probation officer!”

“Malfoy has put the Fat Lady on a diet!”

And one girl even said, “Malfoy has drugged Potter with a love potion!”

The last one made Harry stop abruptly. He turned around and glared at the girl. “Excuse me?” At least she had the decency to blush and apologize.

When he spotted Ron and Hermione, Harry exhaled with relief. They were craning their necks as well, obviously searching for him in return and Ron started to gesture as soon as he laid eyes on Harry who hurried towards them.

“There you are!” Ron slapped Harry’s back. “We were starting to get worried. Where have you been after Kingsley’s announcement?”

“Searching for Draco of course,” Harry found it alarmingly easy to lie to his friends. “I haven’t seen him after dinner… no idea, what’s gotten into him now.” He shook his head as if disappointed.

Hermione stared incredulously at Harry. “Aren’t you concerned for Draco, Harry?”

Harry avoided her eyes and shrugged. “Well, I guess it depends on what he has done… let’s find out, shall we?” He nodded towards the staff table where Cass was having a heated discussion with the Headmistress and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Ginny stood right behind Cass, her hand on her girl-friend’s shoulder.

Hermione looked unconvinced but nodded anyway. They walked closer and soon could understand what Cass was saying.

“Of course, he’s innocent! I swear! Whatever you think he might have done – you must be wrong! I know he was ever so careful not to break any rules since his trial! Draco would never ever risk his probation!” Cass was desperate and turned towards Harry for help. “Harry, tell them! They won’t believe me, but they will trust you!”

Harry cringed. “Well… of course I still hope Draco is innocent… but I’m sure the Auror department does not jump to conclusions without proof.”

“What?” Cass paled and stared at Harry. “You… oh, no… no, Harry, you can’t doubt Draco, you have to back him up!”

Harry’s heart ached seeing Cass so disappointed but he kept his game. “I’m sure the Aurors will sort this out and the sooner Draco turns up the better. I’ve been searching for him – no idea where he is…” He could not help noticing that Hermione and the Headmistress exchanged a significant glance but neither of them questioned his statement.

“I understand your concern, Ms Malfoy,” McGonagall said, “and I hope very much that you are right but the Aurors still have to do their job.” McGonagall turned towards Ginny, “Ms Weasley, please accompany Ms Malfoy back to your dormitory, thank you.”

Cass seamed devastated and Ginny glared at Harry before guiding her girlfriend towards the door.

“Right,” Harry cleared his voice. Cass’ distress had shaken his confidence but he needed to keep acting as if he were more interested in the investigation than in Draco’s safety. “What exactly has happened to incriminate Draco further?”

Kingsley Shacklebolt looked intently at Harry. “So… you’re still interested in this investigation? Now that you seem to be rather close to Draco Malfoy? Still willing to face the truth no matter what?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” Harry did not miss a beat to reply and his eyes did not falter from Kingsley’s. Hermione gasped.

“Very well,” Kingsley nodded. “We found a hexed painting in his room, hidden in the closet behind his trunk. Three of the missing Imagics are trapped in it.”

Harry’s heart sank but he was not altogehter surprised. In fact he had expected something like this. He nodded gravely and said, “I see. Including Dumbledore’s?”

“No, unfortunately not,” McGonagall said, “it’s the two Headmistresses and the Fat Lady. As happy as we are to have them back, I’m afraid they will not be very helpful in solving this case. But maybe I’m wrong… Filius is presently preparing to remove the hex. I hope we’ll find out soon enough what they can tell us about their abductor.”

She addressed Kingsley, “Auror Shacklebolt, I suggest we go to my office, meanwhile your people might start to search for Mr Malfoy? And with your permission I would like Mr Potter, Ms Granger and Mr Weasley to join us?”

Kingsley Shacklebolt did not seem too eager about their coming along but at least he did not contradict McGonagall.

While walking upstairs behind Headauror and Headmistress, Hermione fell back and pulled at Harry’s sleeve, “For the love of magic, what is going on, Harry?” she whispered urgently, “You’re play-acting, right? I don’t believe for a second that you are not concerned about Draco’s situation!”

Once again Harry silently cursed Hermione’s observation skills.

“Of course I’m concerned,” he replied feeding her some half-truths, “but I’m trying to keep a cool head… if I freak out –like Cass– they will ban us from the investigation altogether. We need to do some damage control here until Draco turns up again.”

“But you have to admit, Malfoy doing a runner does not look good,” Ron said, “can’t blame Shacklebolt for his suspicion.”

Hermione sighed, “That’s exactly what irritates me. If Draco is innocent –and I still trust Harry’s and Cass’ judgement– why has he disappeared?” She hesitated for a moment before adding, “Harry, you don’t think Draco might have done something stupid for fear of being imprisoned? He’s not in danger of… hurting himself, is he?”

Harry stared at her. “I should hope not.” It touched him oddly to see Hermione so worried about Draco.

“Blimey, Hermione,” Ron said pulling a face, “don’t give yourself an ulcer about Malfoy! If Harry is cool about it, you should be as well. One might think _your_ sweetheart has disappeared and not Harry’s – oh gosh, it still feels odd to think about Draco sodding Malfoy as your – you know…”

“Boyfriend is the word you are looking for,” Harry grinned. Ron never failed to amuse him and he appreciated the relief of tension his best pal’s statement provided.

“Everything alright, Ms Granger?” asked McGonagall looking back at the three students who lingered behind.

“Of course, Headmistress,” Hermione said with flushed cheeks and they hurried along.

When they climbed the stairs to the seventh floor corridor, Harry hoped with all his heart that Draco might be safe in the Room of Requirement already – or at least stay out of their way. They finally reached the enchanted staircase to McGonagall’s office, she waved her wand and the floppy stairs became solid once more.

Upstairs Professor Flitwick was standing in front of an easel, holding his wand and a brush at the ready and looking deeply disappointed.

“I’m so sorry, Minerva,” he said, “there’s no signature on this painting and I’m not familiar with the artist’s style… I still have no idea who has painted it.”

The painting in question showed a lady’s boudoir. A fancy lady’s boudoir, by the look of it. With purple draperies and a pink carpet the room looked like a nineteenth-century brothel. At the front of the room a black poodle was fast asleep resting on an old-fashioned chaise longue. The small dog was curled up and one of his ears was twitching. A vanity full of tiny bottles and boxes stood right beside the chaise longue, several large vases fudll of red roses and lilies were placed all over the room.

But most surprising was the background of the painting: Next to a curtained window four women were sitting around a card table. They seemed totally focused on their game and did not even look up when six witchards gathered around the painting.

Harry at once recognised the Fat Lady. Two of the other women were dressed in the formal robes of Hogwarts’ headmistresses. The fourth woman was sitting with her back turned towards the observers. She wore an elegant dressing gown and her chestnut hair was falling in wild curls down her neck.

“What are they playing?” asked Ron before Hermione nudged him in the ribs.

“That, Mr Weasley, is totally beside the point,” McGonagall raised her eye-brows. “The important question is, why are Headmistresses Da Ponte and Darknight playing cards with the Fat Lady and an unknown… lady of sorts? Instead of trying to get out of this… this tawdry room?”

“Because they are drugged,” Harry explained, “at least, that’s what Ms Malfoy told me about her painting – trapped Imagics are completely unaware of what has happened to them, they are quite content with their present whereabouts and they don’t even try to leave.”

“Quite right, Mr Potter,” said Flitwick, “as far as I comprehend this hex, that is exactly what happens to trapped Imagics. We can only hope our esteemed colleagues find their true personality again as soon as they are set free.”

Ron whispered into Harry’s ear, “If you ask me, there’s nothing wrong with playing cards!” Harry grinned but kept quiet.

“Indeed, Filius, let’s hope this inappropriate behaviour of my predecessors has an end soon enough. Would you please be so kind as to remove the hex?” McGonagall said.

Flitwick nodded and asked them to step back from the easel. Then he started to whisper a complicated incantation while dragging both wand and brush around the frame of the painting. Harry could only understand a few words, something like ‘ _liberatio Imagicus… pictura captionem’._

“Awsome,” Hermione whispered deeply impressed.

The frame started to glow and for a second the whole painting was obscured – until the sight was clear again. The scene on the painting had changed significantly.

The former Headmistresses and the Fat Lady had all risen from their chairs and were shouting at the same time. “What in the name of Merlin has happened? I’m dizzy…” – “Where are we? This feels very weird indeed!” – “Don’t tell me I’ve missed my dinner!”

The fourth woman slowly stood up and turned around. She was very beautiful with hazel eyes and dark curls falling down her back. She smiled and walked gracefully to the front of the painting. With one lascivious motion she dropped her gown – to be completely naked.

“What the fuck!” Ron shouted and Hermione gave a nervous laugh.

“That’s certainly one way to put it,” Kingsley seemed amused.

“Oh well, nude paintings have a long tradition,” Flitwick explained apologetically.

“Indeed, they do, Filius,” McGonagall said with raised eye-brows, “but not in Hogwarts.”

Harry stared at the Imagic. She was not only naked, she was drop-dead gorgeous. Her full breasts and slender waist made for a perfect hourglass figure. For a split second he contemplated the idea of being not totally gay but… maybe a tiny bit bisexual?

 _This painting must be hexed in more than one way,_ Harry thought and shook his head as if to get rid of an annoying fly. Draco, he was in love with Draco. Draco, who was in trouble and needed his help.

“Right.” Harry said. “To imply this painting of a nude lady belongs to Draco is simply absurd. I can assure you, he is not interested in… this kind of picture. At all.”

Kingsley was just opening his mouth to reply when McGonagall cut in. “First things first. Before we start talking about this painting’s ownership and provenience we have to get our colleagues out of it.”

She addressed the rescued Imagics. “Welcome back to my office, ladies! I am sorry to inform you, that you have been hexed for a few days. Professor Flitwick just broke the hex and everything should be back to normal soon enough. I assure you, we are enormously relieved to see you again! Headmistresses Da Ponte and Darknight, please switch to your own portraits immediately, will you? You might want to rest for a while until all the side-effects of the hex have faded away completely. As for our esteemed Fat Lady – I’m afraid you will not be fit for the responsibilities tied to your usual position. For the time being I suggest you switch to Headmaster Snapes portrait.”

The Fat Lady shrieked. “You want me to squeeze in with this… this _Slytherin_? After all I’ve been through?”

McGonagall sighed. “This is not the time to foster house prejudices, Voluptia! His painting is completely empty anyway. Headmaster Snape was kind enough to step in for you – he is presently guarding the Gryffindor common room.”

The Fat Lady shrieked even louder. _“_ _Godric Gryffindor’s goolies!_ That is outrageous! Have you lost your mind, Minerva? A _Slytherin_ guarding the Gryffindor common room – I can’t even…” and she shrieked some more.

McGonagall turned to Flitwick. “Filius, can you please do something to calm her down? Before my eardrums split?”

“Certainly, Minerva,” said Flitwick and with a quick movement of both wand and brush he turned the volume of the Fat Lady’s voice down. Which made the Imagic glare reproachfully at the Headmistress. She crossed her arms in front of her impressive breasts and said with a somewhat muffled voice, “You might have forgotten your house loyalties, Minerva, but I never will. I flat out refuse to enter Severus Snape’s portrait.”

“You are being ridiculous, Voluptia, but I don’t have time for a lengthy discussion about house issues at the moment… how about moving to Albus Dumbledore’s portrait instead? It’s still unoccupied – sadly enough. Will that do?”

Harry gasped as did the others around him. He found the idea of the Fat Lady sprawling in Dumbledore’s frame highly inappropriate.

“Gladly, Minerva,” said the Fat Lady with regained composure. She nodded towards the group of witchards in front of the hexed painting, “You will excuse me but I am rather tired.” With surprisingly graceful steps she left the boudoir painting and emerged again at Dumbledore’s empty portrait mere seconds later. Snuggling comfortably in his high-backed chair she dozed off.

Meanwhile the abducted Headmistresses had left the hexed painting as well, both now fast asleep within their own frames.

“I’m afraid our victims of crime will need some rest before we can interview them properly,” Flitwick said.

“Which leaves you, Madame, being presently our only possible source of information,” McGonagall said with a stern look at the naked beauty.

The Imagic kept smiling amiably and lay down on the chaise longue, careful not to wake the sleeping poodle.

“I am talking to you, Madame. What is your name? Who has painted you?”

The Imagic made a swift gesture with one hand but kept quiet. McGonagall turned to Flitwick silently asking for his support.

“I’m sorry but there are no means to make her talk, Minerva… if she refuses to speak, I can do nothing about it,” Flitwick said.

“May I suggest something, Professor?” Hermione said tentatively, “I could take the hexed painting to the library. Her Ladyship might be able to identify the artwork or at least the artist. She knows a great deal about Magical Arts.”

“Her Ladyship knows a great deal about everything,” McGonagall said with a smile, “this is an excellent idea, Ms Granger! Yes, please do so… but”, she looked at her watch, “maybe tomorrow … it is already very late.”

“How about we leave the whole matter for tonight?” Kingsley said. “Tomorrow morning Ms Granger and her friends will consult the library, while we interview the abducted Imagics. Meanwhile my team keeps searching for Malfoy. If we catch him in the course of the night, we’ll be able to interview him in the morning! Maybe the whole matter can be solved before the week-end is over,” he said with forced confidence.

“Agreed,” sighed McGonagall, “but I don’t share your optimism, Professor Shacklebolt.”

***

“Sod it! Fucking Aurors!” Harry cursed under his breath, pacing his room like a trapped animal.

After the meeting at the Headmistress’ office he had returned to the guest house together with Ron and Hermione. They had run into Dean and Neville who were also on their way back to the eighth-years’ dromitory. The ball had been more or less over by then and Dean complained, “Aurors snooping into every corner, every box – that sure takes the fun out of a party!”

Harry wanted to search for the Room of Requirements as soon as everyone had retired for the night and the school was quiet. But Kingsley must have called for a massive backup – all the corridors, every door they had passed were under surveillance.

When Harry tried to sneak out of his room after midnight, he immediately ran into a middle-aged witch in Aurors’ robes, who asked him politely but firmly what he was up to. He pretended to need a night-cup of tea from the common room – which he then had to prepare and take back to his room under her watch. Was every corridor, every dormitory watched that closely? Or did they observe Harry’s room with special care, expecting Draco to seek him out?

Harry ran his fingers through his hair and groaned. It was impossible to roam the school without the invisibility cloak tonight. Even under cover of the cloak, would Draco be able to make it to Harry’s room? He looked at his watch – it was two in the morning already. Harry turned off the light. Just like he had promised Draco, he opened the door of his room for an inch very carefully… he sat down on his sofa and waited in the dark. Minutes passed.

A knock. Harry froze and –

“Everything alright, Mr Potter?” whispered the familiar voice of the same Auror who had stopped him before. 

Harry did not respond – he simply had no idea what to say. If he kept silent, maybe she would assume he was asleep? He held his breath until she closed the door quietly.

How was Draco supposed to enter, if she watched Harry’s room that closely? Harry remembered the Aurors standing at the castle’s main entrance and at the front of the guest house well enough... would Draco be able to pass any door at all? The cloak did not allow him to walk through walls after all!

And what if they caught Draco under cover of the Invisibility Cloak? That would be proof of Harry’s abetting. He was not concerned for his own reputation, but he dreaded to be cut off from the investigation. Would Ron and Hermione keep searching for proof of Draco’s innocence, if Harry was banned to do so? Should he try to open the door again in an hour? Or instead send a message to Draco? He didn’t dare using his Patronus, the silvery stag was far too easily spotted. What the fuck was he supposed to do?

Way too many questions for this time of the night! Suddenly he remembered last morning, Draco and himself standing near the forest, their Patronuses playfully chasing around… how could a day, a very long day, that had started so brilliantly take such a bad turn? He groaned.

Maybe he should ask Kreacher to deliver a message? The House-elf could be bound to secrecy and was less likely to raise suspicions than Harry’s Patronus, if spotted. They would need Kreacher anyway to bring food to the Room of Requirements. But calling for the House-elf in the middle of the night? Harry hesitated.

He silently bemoaned that he had insisted on Draco going into hiding – what ill advice he had given him! Harry ran his fingers through his hair in desperation when suddenly he was startled by a soft noise at the window.

“Otto?” Harry stared at his owl who was sitting on the windowsill, nibbling at the handle. Harry opened the window and his pet flew inside.

“Good boy! Have you come to comfort me, huh?” said Harry and was just about to close the window again – when he saw a single shoe dangling in midair, just outside of the window. A very elegant shoe of black patent leather.

“Quick!” Harry whispered and stepped back from the open window. The familiar texture of his Invisibility Cloak whooshed by and Harry closed the window swiftly.

“Brillant idea, flying! But stay hidden for a minute,” he whispered. “They watch my door – maybe they watch the windows as well!”

“No, thank Merlin, they don’t!” Draco said under his breath and dropped the cloak. He stepped down from an old school-broom and started waving his wand while murmuring incantations.

“Should be locked and soundproof now,” he said in his normal voice as soon as he was done. Harry added another spell, to keep the light in before he switched on the standard lamp next to the sofa.

They stared at each other. Harry hesitated just for a second before he hugged Draco tight.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Harry murmured against Draco’s neck. “I should not have forced you into hiding!”

Draco stepped back, “Wait a minute! You mean to tell me I’ve been hiding without cause? All these precautions not to be caught – and the Aurors are not even searching for me but for someone else?” He looked delighted.

“No, I’m afraid not…,” Harry said and Draco’s face fell, “but I did not expect such intense security measures! I thought it would be much easier to stay in contact!”

“It’s alright, Harry, I made it,” Draco squeezed Harry’s shoulders.

“How did you manage? Did you find the Room of Requirements? And how the fuck did you succeed in passing the entrance of both castle and guest house unspotted?”

“Getting into the Room of Requirements was easy enough. It’s more or less where it used to be. But getting to your room was nearly impossible. I would not have made it out of the castle without McGonagall’s help.”

“What?” Harry drew back and stared at Draco.

“Well, I doubt that she intended to help me… but anyway. I was lurking near the main door of the castle for ages and was about to give up, when she suddenly appeared and distracted the Aurors on guard. She asked them a lot of questions and insisted on leaving the door open for some minutes… said she needed some air. It was the perfect opportunity.”

Harry suddenly remembered McGonagall’s behaviour in the evening, certain glances she had exchanged with Hermione… maybe McGonagall had known exactly what she was doing, distracting the Aurors like that? If the Headmistress was on their side – he hardly dared to hope so, but that would make such a difference!

Draco continued, “Anyway – the entrance of the guest house was guarded as well, so I fetched a broom from the shed and flew up to the owlery… thought Otto might be useful in getting your attention to open the window.” He paused. “I’m still glad you told me to hide… you know, it gave me some time to think this through, to make up my mind what to do. But first I want you to tell me what’s going on – I need to know what I’m accused of!”

And so Harry did. They sat down on the sofa and he told Draco everything beginning with the abduction of Dumbledore’s Imagic at the Ministry archives and Draco’s name enlisted at the registry.

Draco snorted and shook his head. “Rubbish! I didn’t leave Edinburgh for all of August! I never thought I would regret that the Ministry’s damned tracking spell doesn’t work properly.” Harry had expected nothing else but was still relieved to hear this confirmed.

Otto hooted approvingly. The owl had settled down at the back of a chair and his huge eyes looked at the two young men on the sofa holding hands – and the view seemed to please him enormously.

Harry went on about the Imagics abducted at Hogwarts and finally described the painting which had been discovered in Draco’s room tonight.

Draco stared at Harry wide-eyed. “This… this is unbelievable! I remember that painting of course! Listen, when I moved into my room, it was already hanging above my bed! That naked lady sprawled across the pink sofa, making luscious movements whenever I looked at her… so gross.”

Harry cringed, he remembered his own reaction to the nude… Draco was apparently not even a tiny bit bisexual.

“Actually I thought someone was making fun of me,” Draco continued. “So I took the thing down and shoved it into the closet, just to get rid of it. And I swear, at that time there was just one human Imagic in the painting, just that naked lady and a poodle!”

Harry nodded. “So someone set you up very cleverly indeed… they expected you to do just that… to hide the painting and not being aware of trapped Imagics. The question is – who might have done this to you? Any idea?”

Draco bit his lips before he said, “That’s exactly what I’ve been asking myself for the last few hours. In Muggle crime fiction the motive is either money or sex.” He paused and Harry was baffled about Draco’s knowledge of Muggle fiction!

Draco continued, “Sex seems unlikely considering… well, never mind… but money on the other hand… father has lost any claim on the family fortune because of his criminal conviction, so at the moment most of the money and property is frozen. Mother is only permitted to stay at the Manor, we both have an allowance of our own. But as soon as my probation is over I’ll inherit everything. It’s a lot… more than I’ll ever need.” Draco pulled a face. This prospect did not seem to have much appeal for him.

“So Uncle Taurus –Cassy’s father– would be a natural suspect as he always wanted to be the Master of the Manor and he’s the next in line… but he is wanted for his crimes anyway, he could never claim the heritage, even if I were out of the picture.” He shook his head. “On the other hand – if I simply asked myself, whom I distrust, that would be Laddley of course.”

Harry gulped. He had neither mentioned Dumbledore’s message nor the other suspects – still Draco had named two of them.

“Your uncle is supposed to be out of the country and the Ministry is on his heels anyway, I think we can’t do much about this line of enquiry… but tell me about Laddley.”

“Laddley blames father for his brother’s mental illness, I know that much. But why would he want to punish _me_? I didn’t do anything to him or his brother! I wasn’t even born when it happened!”

“But… what exactly _did_ happen? What did your father do?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know the full story… I just know that Laddley hates father and holds him responsible for his brother’s state of mind… apparently the brother lives permanently at St. Mungo’s locked ward. Father and Laddley were at Hogwarts together but they would hardly have been friends, concerning father’s pure-blood obsession and Laddley being a half-blood.” Draco sighed. “I found out about Laddley when I was eleven… shopping with my parents at Diagon Alley for school – it was actually the very same day we met for the first time, remember?” Draco gave Harry a lopsided grin and squeezed his hand. 

“My parents and I were just heading back to the Leaky Cauldron, when suddenly Laddley stepped into our path and confronted father… it was bizarre, he shouted and insulted father, called him a ‘ _fucking_ _poof’_ in the middle of Diagon Alley, can you imagine? Well, father stunned him and that was that. I knew better than asking what it was all about… but of course now I wish I had.”

“That’s at least something to work with,” Harry said, “I can try to find out what exactly has happened between them… maybe Laddley just wants to punish you instead of your father, because he can’t get a hold of him?”

“Blood vengeance? Certainly a possibility among pure-bloods – but rather unlikely for a Muggles Studies teacher don’t you think?” Draco looked unconvinced.

“We’ll see about that. Laddley sure has issues,” Harry said with renewed confidence. “But for now – how much time do we have together, what do you think? When’s the best moment for you to make it back to the Room of Requirements unseen? I’m afraid I won’t be able to visit without the cloak, at least not until the Aurors back off, but Kreacher –he’s a House-elf– will bring you food and he could deliver letters, if –“

“No,” Draco interrupted, “Listen, Harry, I’ve been thinking… even if I make it back to the Room, I can’t stay in there forever… it’s driving me crazy, with nothing to do but worrying… feels like prison already.”

Harry’s heart sank. “You want to turn yourself in?”

Draco shook his head. “No. I think it’s time to do something I’ve been pondering all summer.” He withdrew his hand from Harry’s and gulped. “I’ll go Muggle.”

“What?” Harry was shocked. “Are you insane? You want to drop out of the wicharding world?” He knew it was rarely done but now and then a witch or wizard would stop using their magic abilities altogether. Mostly those who had chosen a Muggle partner and were not too talented anyway.

Draco nodded solemnly. “I think it’ll do me good. Find a job, make a living.” He looked at his hands. “I’ll never regain my reputation in our world, no matter what. I’ll always be Malfoy – rich but still the youngest Death Eater ever, not to be trusted.”

“Former Death Eater,” Harry corrected. “Plus, if we’re together, that’ll improve your standing in the witcharding world a bit, don’t you think?”

“That’s exactly what Zabini suggested,” Draco said with disdain. “But I don’t want to drag you down with me, Harry! Even tonight could have hurt your reputation – what if they catch me under your famous cloak?” He shook his head. “I was right in the first place. I’ll do you no good. The best thing I can do is leave the witcharding world completely.”

“Stop it! That’s just… just crazy in so many ways!” Harry pleaded. “Where would you hide anyway? You aren’t even familiar with the Muggle world!”

Draco avoided his eyes.

“Wait a minute – you are?” Harry stared at Draco.

“I have some… Muggle contacts. Friends nobody knows about. I’m pretty sure… they’ll manage to hide me for some time.”

A surge of jealousy swept over Harry. So that’s where Draco’s sexual experience came from! He must know some gay Muggles, most probably intimately.

“I see.” Harry gulped. “If that’s what you want to do…”

“What I want?” Draco’s voice was throaty, “are you kidding me? What I want is this –“ and he leaned into Harry and kissed him hard. Harry’s heart leapt, yes – this was it. Draco’s mouth tasted, oh so very sweet, a bit like raspberries in fact.

Much too quickly for Harry’s liking Draco pulled apart again. “But this I can’t have without ruining your life as well – so I’ll make for once a decision based not on what I want, but on what is the right thing to do. I’ll go Muggle.”

“Fuck! No!” Harry cried. “Actually, yes, go into hiding with your Muggle… friends. Even if I hate them already. Maybe that’s a clever way of covering your tracks. But don’t –do you hear me?– don’t stay there forever! You shouldn’t make a decision of such consequence in the midst of a crisis anyway! Promise, please?” Harry begged.

They stared at each other. Draco sighed and gave in.

“Fair enough,” Draco nodded. “I’ll hide in the Muggle world for the time being and then we’ll see. As long as I don’t practice magic the Ministry won’t find me.”

A thought hit Harry. “What about your tracking spell? I know it’s not precise enough to show your whereabouts within the school, but if you leave Hogwarts altogether, they’ll know!”

Draco shook his head, “No, they won’t. Jordan simply removed the spell. Didn’t work properly anyway and he had pity with me suffering from side-effects. He just made me promise not to run away – can you believe it? Hufflepuffs!” He snorted.

“What side-effects?”

“Sickness, dizziness mostly… feel’s a bit like making an apparition jump while being drunk. It’s supposed to happen when they put the tracker on you but not for long. As my tracker went off and on several times some days it was no fun. So Jordan had mercy with me… I told you, he’s a decent guy and he would be perfect for you. Did I mention that I hate him?”

“Did I mention that I’m not interested?”

They smiled at each other.

Then Harry sighed, “So you are going to leave – how exactly?”

“I’m flying out of here in the dark of the night, out of the no-apparation zone. As soon as it’s possible, I’ll risk disapparating to… to the place I’ll be staying at.”

“Hold on – you won’t tell me where you are hiding? But I would never ever tell anyone – not even Ron and Hermione!” Harry was affronted.

“Relax, Harry, I know… it’s for your own good. I don’t want you to lie anymore. You could even offer to testify under Veritaserum – that’ll restore your credibility… which might have suffered by dating me.”

“No way! I need to know where you are! And I need to contact you as soon as your name is cleared!”

“Well, there’s always Otto,” Draco said carefully. “He’s a Malfoy’s Owl. They are famous for secret messaging. If we take some precautions, nobody will be able to follow him.” Otto hooted excitedly – he clearly understood that his name had been mentioned. Draco gave Harry a questioning look.

“Whatever it takes,” Harry said firmly, “what measures exactly are we talking about?”

“It’s simple enough. Both of us tie a hair around his leg and I will add a spell, that’s all. Nobody else will be able to follow his flight or to obtain the letters we pass. You still won’t know where I am but we could write to each other… if that’s what you want?”

“Of course I want to stay in contact! I’ll keep you informed about the investigation and as soon as the truth is out you can come back to school, because this is where you belong, this is where you are meant to be. It’s hard enough to let you go – I need to trust you’ll come back… back to Hogwarts and back to me.”

Draco stared at Harry as if seeing him for the first time. “You’re really…” he shook his head, “you’re serious about… us?”

Harry nodded.

“Always knew it… you’re a lunatic, Mr Potter,” Draco said with a lopsided grin.

Harry could not hold back any longer. He wrapped Draco in his arms and murmured, “I’m not done with you yet, do you hear me? Don’t you dare leave me for good! Promise me to come back as soon as this nightmare is over! Promise!”

Draco nodded. “Alright. I promise.” He flushed and opened his mouth as if he wanted to add something, but kept quiet.

Then he got up, pulled at his hair and knelt down next to Otto’s chair.

“There,” Draco said, knotting a blond hair around the owl’s leg, “now you need to add yours.”

As soon as Harry was done, Draco tapped Otto with his wand and murmured ‘ _Secretos’_. He mounted the old broom and nodded towards the window. “I better leave.”

“Don’t forget the cloak,” Harry said.

“I’ll be fine without it, it’s still dark enough outside and–“

Harry interrupted. “Seriously?! You want to discuss this once again? Take the damn thing –“ he grabbed for the cloak, “or I’ll shove it up your ass, you stubborn –“

“Alright, alright. But I’ll send Otto back with the cloak as soon as I’m ready to disapparate, you might need it for the investigation,” Draco said before he added with a wicked grin, “by the by – if you want to threaten me in earnest, you should not suggest shoving anything up my ass… sounds more like a promise to me.”

Draping the cloak over Draco, Harry flushed violently. “Fuck,” he said, “I didn’t…”

“Exactly,” said the invisible Draco, “we didn’t. But I am looking forward to it.”


	31. Still a Stag

> _~~Sunday, 1st~~ _ _Early hours of Monday, 2nd of November 1998_
> 
> _Dear Draco,_
> 
> _It’s after midnight already but I still want to write to you. This is weird. Not knowing where you are but writing anyway. I hope (I trust!) that Otto will find you safe and all settled in with your Muggle host (friend). (Don’t tell that guy, but I would just love to stun him! How come he gets to spend time with you and not me? This is totally unfair. And I’ve been told that I’m very good at stunning. I’m stunning so to speak. Hah!)_
> 
> _Where was I? This is going to be a silly letter, I know that much. In my defence, it’s been a long day and I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’ll just ramble along, ok? (Let’s assume you agree.)_
> 
> _Sunday, no lessons today, thank Merlin, so enough time for investigations. The school was buzzing with rumours of course. Come to think of it I would have loved to stun quite a number of people, not just your host. But I did the sensible thing and ignored them. Kept to our friends who ALL are very supportive. It’s not just Cass and me who KNOW you’re innocent. So do Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Everybody sitting at our table, actually! They all to trust you. Plus Tommy and Tavin. And I’m sure this list is not even thorough. So you see, lots of people believe in you. Not just me. Although (besides Cass) I’m probably the one who wants you back most urgently. There. I said it. I want you back and fast._
> 
> _Hermione did a great job tapping Lady Library about the hexed painting. (Of course she did a great job. Whenever did she not do a great job?) Although I could have done with a different result. Brace yourself for some bad news there. The artist was one of your ancestors. Some Lodovicus Malfoy living in the 19thc entury, a very good magical artist and apparently very straight. (Famous for painting nude females. Very, very straight indeed.) The painting has been part of your familiy's collection for ages, well known, registered, not hexed by Lodovicus. The poodle is not supposed to be there, that’s a recent addition. So once again, the twat who has sat you up did a great job slandering you. But we’ll catch him eventually, promise! And I’ll personally make him suffer. (Did I mention I’m rather good at stunning?)_
> 
> _Flitwick says he can’t tell who put the hex on the painting. Pity, actually. But he also says, he might be able to tell whether it’s the same witchard as hexed another one. So the plan is to fetch your mum’s hexed painting (ah, she’s probably not a ‘mum’ but a ‘mother’ to you?) and let Flitwick compare the hexes. I’ve no idea how this is done, but if he is able to prove, that your beloved uncle (another one I’d just love to stun for various reasons) is the sodding git, I won’t doubt Flitwick’s methods._
> 
> _Still, even if Taurus is the one who hexed the damn thing. Of course the question remains who put it into your room? And drilled that damn poodle to deliver fake messages? Because that’s what the dog did. A fake message from ‘Dumbledore’ lured the Headmistresses’ Imagics into the painting and a fake offering of her favourite dish was the bait for our beloved Fat Lady. (Apparently she can’t resist the promise of ‘Salted Caramel Lobster with Raisins’ – gross, huh? Who would eat such a thing? I wouldn’t.) Animals’ Imagics are apparently not bound to the trapping hex._
> 
> _That’s what we’ve learned from questioning the rescued Imagics. The naked lady is pouting and still refuses to talk. She must know who’s behind the whole matter, but she just keeps quiet. Drives me nuts, that apparently there is no way to make an Imagic talk, if they don’t want to. At least none that Flitwick knows about and if he doesn’t, it’s probably impossible. Come to think of it he didn’t know about the trapping hex either. So maybe there’s still a chance._
> 
> _Anyway, that’s what we’ve learned today. Kingsley promised to fetch the other trap-painting from the Manor. I think he also wants to step by to question your mother. Did you owl her in secret too? I hope you did or she will be terribly worried. I’d like to let her know that you’re safe but am afraid to raise suspicions. I was so relieved when Otto returned. That you had made it out of Hogwarts safely. Thank you so much for the note! (And the cloak.) I’ve a confession to make: Hopeless romantic that I am, I’ve put your note under my pillow. It’s supposed to be my lucky charm until this is over._
> 
> _Seriously: I love you too._
> 
> _H._

Of course Draco had _not_ written ‘ _I love you’_.

Harry very much doubted that Draco Malfoy would ever write, let alone say those words. Draco’s note –just a few lines scribbled in a hurry– merely confirmed that he had left the no-apparation zone without trouble and thanks for the cloak. But there were three little words at the end of the note that made all the difference: _‘Still a stag’_. Harry’s heart jumped every time he looked at those words. This confirmation, that Draco’s Patronus still had the shape of a stag, was a declaration of love, if ever there was one.

 _‘Still a stag’_ let Harry trust, Draco would come back. _‘Still a stag’_ gave Harry reason to hope. _‘Still a stag’_ was a means to keep his jealousy at bay. Because Harry was indeed jealous of Draco’s unknown friend, most likely ex-lover, who had the pleasure of hosting him. Harry needed to believe in _‘Still a stag’_ to keep going.

The first days of school after Draco’s disappearance Harry felt slightly numb. Time passed in slow-motion, his lessons seemed boring and pointless. He asked the Headmistress for permission to skip classes and investigate full time, but she flat out refused.

“I understand your concern for Mr Malfoy’s affairs, Harry,” she said, “but your future is far too important to trifle with. This is your best chance to finish school with decent grades – do you understand? You already skipped school last year, you will not be given another chance.”

Grudgingly Harry accepted her decision. He missed Draco terribly. During lessons as well as at mealtimes, the empty spot in front of him was a constant reminder of Draco’s absence.

His only consolation were the letters they exchanged. Every morning when Harry awoke, Otto arrived at his window with a message from Draco. Although Draco was very careful and did not tell anything significant –at least, nothing to give away his whereabouts– Harry found much comfort in the mere fact, that Draco continued to write and even more so, that every letter ended with the treasured phrase _‘Still a stag’_. In return Harry read and reread Draco’s letters, wrote his reply –always closing with ‘I love you too’– and sent Otto on his way the following evening. 

Within the course of the week the owl seemed rather exhausted, which gave proof that Draco did not hide in the immediate neighbourhood of Hogwarts. In fact Harry had an inkling that he was staying in Edinburgh. The distance between Hogwarts and the capital of Scotland was just about the distance a well trained witchard’s owl might be able to cover twice in one night. And where else might Draco have made Muggle friends? Harry remembered Cass hinting that in previous summers Draco had fooled about at the Fringe festival. Certainly a good opportunity to meet other gay boys… whenever Harry’s mind took that path he had to force himself to stop thinking about Draco’s present companion and focus on the investigation instead.

Not much progress had been made since the release of the Fat Lady and the Headmistresses’ Imagics. The only significant news was Flitwick’s discovery that the two trap-paintings –the Lady’s Boudoir found at Draco’s room and the Banquet kept at the Manor– had indeed both been hexed by the same person. As Ms Malfoy and Cass insisted, that Taurus Malfoy had hexed the painting at the Manor, he must be responsible for the other trap-painting too.

It drove Harry nuts that nobody had a clue about Taurus Malfoy’s present place of hiding. He found it hard to believe that the Auror Department did everything they could to find Draco’s uncle and wished he could go searching himself. But he was obliged to stay at school of course.

The only person who was even more devastated than Harry was Cass. She was paler than usual and her puffy eyes were a clear sign that she must be crying a lot. Harry tried to talk to her whenever he could, not just for her sake but because he felt closer to Draco when Cass was around. Just looking at her comforted him. Right after the ball she had been angry at Harry, believing him to be indifferent. But Harry convinced her that he did care very much indeed and would go to great length to clear Draco’s name. Ginny’s insistence that Harry was trustworthy had helped too, so Cass came around to have faith in him again.

Their other friends were all surprisingly supportive as well. Harry was astounded how much respect and even friendship Draco had gained in just a few weeks. Hermione spent most of her spare time at the library, searching for information about Magical Arts and just about anything that might be helpful. Soon enough she had the same slightly crazy, overstrained look he knew from previous years before exams started.

As Harry was not allowed to leave school and go searching for Taurus Malfoy he had decided to focus on the other main suspect, Gregory Laddley.

The Muggles Studies teacher had been astonishingly subdued since Halloween. Laddley was paler than usual and whenever Harry spotted him at the staff table, he was poking his food and kept quiet. In fact he looked as if he were heavily burdened. Wasn’t that strange, considering that he was now talking to Healer O’Malley? Wasn't that supposed to ease his mind?

When Harry asked the Headmistress how Laddley’s treatment came along she cut him off and flat-out insisted on Healers’ confidentiality. Laddley-the-patient seemed more important to her than Laddley-the-suspect.

Well, Harry had no such inhibitions. He brooded all week over Draco’s story and pondered how to find out what exactly had happened between Laddley and Lucius Malfoy. Only at dinner time on Friday, when Seamus complained they were still not allowed to go Hogsmeade this weekend, Harry finally knew what he had to do.

Waking up on Saturday morning Harry was eager to get going. Finally a day without tedious lessons to endure, he had both time and permission to investigate some more. A quick shower, getting dressed and Harry was ready to go. Reminiscence of the past weeks as well as craving a cup of tea made Harry heading for the common room first.

“Good morning, Mr Potter,” said Severus Snape’s Imagic, staring down from the Wizard’s Wood with Polly on his shoulder. The forest had lost most of its colourful leaves, it looked bare and empty. Daisy and her terrifying pet were nowhere to be seen.

“How are we going to prove Mr Malfoy’s innocence?” Snape asked eagerly.

Harry stared back dumbfounded.

“Don’t pretend to be indifferent,” Snape said. “I won’t believe it for a second.”

“’Morning,” Harry croaked, “and yes, of course I care! I’m just surprised that you do as well!”

“Draco Malfoy has been a favourite student of mine for years. And not because of his family’s fortune or influence, but because he has been a very unhappy young man… unhappy in many ways,” Snape looked grave, “I know the pains of unrequited love.”

Harry cringed. He was in no way prepared to talk to Snape’s Imagic about love! Snape’s never ending love for Harry’s mum was irritating enough. That he also seemed to have anticipated Draco’s and Harry’s attachment was even more embarrassing!

For a change of topic he said, “Well, I’m going to Hogsmeade this morning. I’ve got the Headmistress’ permission ‘cause I need to talk to Aberforth.”

“Ah, I see,” the Imagic said, “it is unfortunate that I can’t come along… you don’t have any suggestion what I might attempt today? I’ve been looking into more or less every painting of the castle without result but there must be something else I can do to help! The headmistress has no time for setting me a task… she is busy keeping the Aurors under control.”

Harry was touched by the Imagic’s eagerness and pondered his offer. “Well, let’s see… what about the dog? We need to know where that poodle came from, who has trained him. Maybe you can take him for a walk, coax him into going to his painting of origin? That would be splendid!”

The Imagic did not look pleased at all, “Well… if it has to be done, I suppose I’ll manage…”

“Wait a minute – you’re afraid of dogs?”

“Let’s say they are not my favourite animals.”

“How about a leash and a muzzle? Would that make it easier? You could ask Flitwick to paint some,” Harry suggested silently bemused by Snape’s fear of a toy poodle. Thinking of animals to be afraid of, Harry asked, “Where’s Daisy, by the way? She’s alright, I hope?”

The Imagic’s raised an eye brow. “I can assure you Miss Daisy is perfectly fine. She’s presently at Bellevue Beach. _Professor_ Flitwick improved her protection, made some changes to the raptor which is guarding her… and now they have to stay at the seaside for some reason. That is why Polly has to play messenger once again.”

Snape patted the squirrel and made her jump to the nearest tree before he continued, “Very well, I will ask _Professor_ Flitwick to provide the necessary items for walking the dog.” Emphasizing the word _Professor_ the Imagic glared at Harry – who had dared calling Flitwick by his name only. Snape nodded and left.

Harry was strangely relieved by Snape’s rebuke. Being in love with Draco Malfoy was one thing, but being also close friends with Severus Snape was stretching it a bit too far. 

He hurried back to his room, fetched a warm coat and just passed Ron’s door, when it flew open.

“I know the sound of your footsteps!” A rather dishevelled looking Hermione shouted. She glared at his coat. “Where do you think you are going without us?” Hands on her hips, she was wearing nothing but a large maroon pyjama-shirt and her hair was… well, very bushy indeed. Harry stared at her pale legs and was immensely grateful that the shirt was long enough to cover her female parts. 

“G’morng,” Ron yawned behind her. He was bare-chested and wore the maroon pants to go with the shirt.

“We are in this together, Harry! Don’t you forget that! I have searched tons of material all week and we need to talk this through properly!” she ranted, “do you have any idea – “

The next door opened and Blaise interrupted, “Shush, Potter-squad! It’s not even seven and I need my beauty sleep! Go save Malfoy, but quietly please!”

Without a word Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him inside.

“Seriously? _‘Go save Malfoy but don’t disturb my beauty sleep?’_ And that’s supposed to be Draco’s friend!” Harry was outraged about Blaise's remark.

“Well, we are _your_ best friends and you better keep that in mind.” Hermione glared at Harry. “No sneaking off, do you hear me?”

“I did _not_ sneak off! I just wanted to make an early start and did not want to disturb your lovers’ bliss in the morning!” Harry argued. He looked around what was apparently still just Ron’s bedroom. “Huh, you didn’t connect your rooms again? I really liked your apartment,” he said as a peace offering.

Hermione blew her hair out of her face. “Didn’t have time for this… spent every spare minute in the library researching Magical Arts, trying to find some proof of Draco’s innocence,” she glared at him. “But you would never listen when I tried to talk to you all week!”

Harry felt a pang of regret. “Look, I’m sorry. Truly, I am. It’s just… you haven’t found anything useful yet… just yesterday evening you said so yourself.”

Hermione sighed. “I’m afraid so. And that’s driving me mad…” She sat down heavily on the unmade bed.

Ron cleared his voice. “Hermione put all the stuff she found on the incident board and she thought – well, we thought, if she talks this through with you, maybe something will make sense? You might pick something up which she can’t see? I’m no good at this… this Advanced Charms stuff.”

“Neither am I.” said Harry, “Hermione, believe me, I’m really grateful for you hard work! When I did not listen properly it’s only because I fully trust you! I’m a hundred percent sure you are not going to miss anything in those old volumes. And if you need someone to discuss your findings with, it has to be someone equally competent, not us Charms morons.” He pointed at Ron and himself.

She nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose I could talk to Dean – he’s doing awfully well at this year’s Charms lessons... but I’m not allowed to talk about the investigation… I would need McGonagall’s or Flitwick’s permission.”

“Why don’t you talk to Flitwick himself?” Harry suggested.

Hermione blushed. “He’s a Professor, Harry, in case you forgot! I can’t ask him to spend hours of his week-end listening to my research!”

“But why not? The old squeaker might even enjoy it! He has already learned something new by this investigation, remember? He had never heard about the trapping-hex before! Maybe he’s quite interested in your research… at least he will appreciate your effort.”

She still looked unconvinced.

“What if Harry asked Flitwick on your behalf?” Ron suggested. “He can pretend you don’t even know about his request and if Flitwick declines, you don’t need to feel embarrassed.”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” Hermione blushed, “but ok.”

“Brilliant,” Harry rubbed his hands, “I’ll ask him… but then I really have to get going!”

“Going where exactly?” Ron said. “And why can’t we come along?”

“Going to Hogsmeade because I want to talk to Aberforth again…” Harry paused. They did not know about his last meeting with Draco or about him assisting Draco’s flight and that was the main reason, why he had avoided talking to them all week.

He improvised, “Listen, before Draco left, on our way to the ball, he finally mentioned something about Laddley. Remember, I pestered him for weeks to spill the beans about that homophobic arse? Turn’s out Laddley has a huge grudge against Draco’s father. I want to know why. Aberforth mentioned being friends with Laddley’s late mother so he might know something about that.” He paused. “And of course you can come along, I just intended to make it quick and fly–” he looked at Hermione, “knowing you are not particularly comfortable on a broom I thought I’d rather go alone and hurry back, to tell you everything.”

She pulled a face. “You still should not go alone, Harry… and isn’t it a bit early to invade a pub anyway? I suspect Aberforth is not exactly a morning person.”

With a pang Harry saw her point. In his eagerness to get going he had not considered that an early morning visit to a pub-owner was unlikely to be appreciated. “Right, I’ll better have breakfast first… that’ll give me a chance to ask Flitwick as well.” 

“Now you’re talking, pal!” Ron grinned. “Breakfast first it is and then… well, I’m certainly comfortable on a broom and I’d very much like to come with you, Harry – while my brilliant girlfriend talks shop with Professor Flitwick.”

“If said Professor is willing to do so,” Hermione looked sceptical.

“Being a Professor he should be clever enough to appreciate your brains,” Ron said winking, “whereas your stupid boyfriend appreciates your other body parts just as enthusiastically.”


	32. Bloke Talk

Just as Harry had expected him to be, Flitwick was eager to talk to Hermione about her research, when Harry asked him at breakfast.

“With pleasure, Mr Potter, with great pleasure!” Flitwick said, “Please tell Ms Granger that I am looking forward to have a go at the incident board with her! As Lady Library’s lover she is in a unique position for doing research… tell her to see me at my office any time after breakfast, will you?”

Hermione was flushed and excited about this offer. She buzzed off as soon as she had cleared her plate muttering, “Have to fetch my books…”

Harry was secretly astounded by her shyness towards the staff. She could be a terrible know-it-all, still in all those years at school he had never heard her boast in front of a teacher. Which she would be fully entitled to do, Harry thought. Flying towards Hogsmeade next to Ron he wondered how his best pal dealt with his girlfriend’s superior intelligence. _Must be quite a challenge to have such a brilliant partner,_ Harry assumed.

Pondering the consequences of having a brainy partner Harry’s mind wandered to Draco of course. How was Draco coping in hiding? What did he do all day long? Was he bored? And most importantly – did he miss Harry?

Draco’s letters did not give away much of his feelings. Wheras Harry’s letters were lengthy and very emotional – he just spilled his heart out, Draco’s response was always short, very articulate and mostly ironic. Without Draco’s repeated assurance of ‘ _Still a Stag’_ Harry would not dare to hope they still had a connection, a future, a… – something to look forward to.

Harry and Ron touched down half a mile outside of the village intending to walk the rest of the distance.

“What a lark, pal!” Ron laughed and panted dismounting his broom, “you’re still fast as hell in the air!”

Harry grinned at Ron and nodded. Yes, racing with his best friend had been great fun. They had looped and dived, just like during Quidditch practice and Harry had even forgotten about the dreadful investigation for a few minutes.

Walking side by side towards Hogsmeade, Ron still marvelled at their broom-race. “You know what? We should do that once in a while, just the two of us,” he suggested.

Harry nodded again. Suddenly he was painfully aware that he rarely spent time with Ron alone anymore. It was always Harry, Ron and Hermione. And as much as he liked Hermione –she truly felt like a sister to him– he missed being with Ron alone. Just the two of them, two guys. During previous school-years Ron and Hermione had not been an item – well, at least not officially. Quidditch practise and of course separate dormitories for girls and boys granted that for a few hours, Harry and Ron were without her.

Ron’s thoughts seemed to run in a similar direction.

“It’s good to have a bit of blokes-only time,” Ron slapped Harry’s back as they walked along, “don’t you think? Mind you, I can’t get enough of Hermione, now that we are finally together… I find it still hard to believe that she’s settled for me, you know – but yet… it won’t hurt her, when we spend some time apart. Maybe she’s even glad not to see my stupid face all the time?” Ron grinned but Harry could hear a touch of insecurity in his voice. He was painfully aware of his best friend’s lack in self-confidence.

“Ron! Don’t you think Hermione knows exactly why she’s with you? You’re a great guy, hell, you’re the best! She’s far too clever to settle for less. You’re funny and good-hearted and… just a good person!”

Ron stopped in his track. He looked at Harry for a second – and then Harry found himself in a bear-hug.

“’rgoofend!” Ron mumbled before he let go and stared teary-eyed at Harry.

Harry cleared his throat and slapped Ron’s back. “Whatever you say pal, I agree.” He grinned.

“I said you’re a good friend, idiot! The best! Hell, I have the best girlfriend and the best pal one could wish for – I really am one lucky bugger!” Ron rubbed his eyes.

“That’s because you’re the best boyfriend Hermione could wish for and the best pal I’ll ever have, dumb-ass,” Harry knocked playfully at Ron’s arm.

Ron grinned. “If you say so… who am I to contradict a superhero?”

“Stop it, Ron! That’s not funny! I’m sick of these damn superhero jokes!”

“Can’ help it, Harry! I’ve picked the line up from Malfoy! He’s always teasing you like that and you seem to like it, don’t you? Considering you’re into him? Or is that a gay thing?”

Harry slapped Ron’s shoulder harder but laughed. He was awfully glad that Ron was joking again. They resumed walking quietly for a few minutes. It was a fine morning. Harry enjoyed the fresh autumn air, the sprinkle of frost on the trees which gradually melted as the sun came out. When the path took a turn they could finally see the village. Hogsmeade was the picture of an old-fashioned hamlet, with its weather-beaten stone houses and smoke drifting from their chimneys straight up in the air.

Ron cleared his voice. “I’m just… I’m ever so proud to be with Hermione, you know? When I look at her, I could just burst with pride that she’s mine…” Ron paused, “it’s still hard to believe you should feel that way about Malfoy – sorry, Draco…?”

Harry gulped. “Me and Draco, that’s a little bit more complicated I guess… but I still know what you mean, I remember feeling awfully proud being his date at the ball. But of course it’s different… difficult…”

“Now that he’s left you,” Ron stated.

“He didn’t leave me,” Harry protested instantly, “he just had to go into hiding– “ He stopped talking, afraid of giving too much away.

“Go on,” Ron said but Harry shook his head.

“You know what Hermione thinks? She thinks, you know where he is. She thinks, you helped him get away.” Ron said. “And she’s usually right, Hermione.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He kept walking and looked straight ahead.

“Harry, pal, you know you can trust us beyond any doubt, don’t you?” Ron went on, “And you don’t have to do this alone, rescuing your darling…” He elbowed Harry playfully. “If that’s what you have to do, we’re rooting for you, me and Hermione. She’s told me to say that much.”

Suddenly Harry had a lump in his throat. “I know.” He gulped. “It’s just… I promised… I can’t talk about it… it’s not _my_ decision, not _my_ secret to keep or share, you know? And anyway – I don’t know where exactly he is, I just know that he’s safe and I’m awfully glad about that.”

Ron nodded. “Just… be careful, Harry. He’s… I know he’s not half as bad as we thought him to be but still… even if he’s no longer a Death Eater, he’s still a fucking Slytherin!”

Harry laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind, promise.” He paused. “You know what? That’s part of his appeal… remember my place mat, Ron? There’s a good measure of Slytherin in my system as well. We’ve a lot in common, Draco and I –“

Ron protested but Harry went on, “Oh yes, we do. We’re both from fucked up families, both complicated and stubborn. You and Hermione – you come from loving homes, your parents are good, kind-hearted people –“

“Your parents were good people too! Everybody says so!” Ron said with feeling.

“Yes, but let’s face it: they did not raise me. Draco’s upbringing and mine… that was tough. We are both survivors in our own way… we are so very much alike.”

Ron stopped. He looked intrigued. “But how can you even say that? And be so damn sure about it? You haven’t exactly spent much time together – I mean, outside of a classroom, just the two of you? What Hermione calls ‘quality time’, right?”

Harry stopped too. Thinking about their early morning encounters he blushed and cleared his voice.

Ron gawped. “You did? Don’t tell me it’s true what the rumour mill says, that you spent your nights together in the common room?”

“Don’t be daft, Ron! Why would we stay at the common room overnight when we both have our private rooms? No, in fact,” Harry coughed, “we haven’t spent a single night together yet. But we… we met for early morning tea at the common room. Regularly.”

“What?” Ron grinned. “How am I supposed to picture that? You and him both in jimjams?” He looked delighted when Harry blushed. “Man, you really have a pash for that bloke, huh?”

Harry growled, “Oh, shut up. It’s bad enough that he’s gone, I don’t need to be teased as well.”

“Fair enough, pal, fair enough,” Ron slapped Harry’s shoulder, “so let’s get your Slytherin sweet-heart back – Merlin, how weird is that! Hah!” He laughed and poked Harry in the ribs with the handle of his broom.

“Stop that!” Harry complained grinning.

Embarrassing as it might be to be teased like that, still in a way it felt… perfectly normal. Ron would make fun of Harry’s love interest no matter who they were. He had needled Harry two years ago, while he was with Ginny as well. It felt like a step in the right direction, if Ron was comfortable enough to joke about Harry’s feeling. Definitely preferable to awkward silence.

“Have you heard of the Chudley Cannons’ latest win?” Ron suddenly asked. Apparently he had used his capacity for talking about feelings to the limit which was just fine with Harry.

Walking through the village they continued to talk about the Quidditch championship. Harry had never been as engrossed by the charts as Ron was, who could ramble about the latest results for hours, but Harry enjoyed his friend’s enthusiasm.

Finally they reached the Hog’s Head Inn which was unsurprisingly still closed. Harry knocked at the door and waited.

“What if Aberforth is gone for the day?” Ron craned his neck to get a look at the upstairs windows.

“I don’t think so,” Harry said, “wait a minute.”

He was just about to knock again when a side door to their right opened with a creak and Aberforth appeared.

“Good morning, Mr Dumbledore,” Harry shouted.

“Oh. ‘Morning – Harry, Ron,” he grumbled, “the pub’s closed until lunch-time… what brings you here so early?”

“We wanted to ask you something, if you have time? It won’t take long, maybe we could come in for a minute?”

Aberforth nodded and turned around holding the door open for them as they stepped inside. Instead of climbing upstairs to his private rooms Aberforth walked along the corridor to another open door at the backside of the old house. Harry and Ron followed him out into a small garden behind the building.

To Harry’s discomfort they were not alone. Working in the far corner of the garden, pushing a bar spade into the soil, was the scary bartender. He looked up and frowned at them – for all Harry could tell behind those dark glasses.

“Never mind Tadgh, he’s helping me to dig up the last turnips,” Aberforth said, “before the freeze gets to them… so what is it you wanted to know?”

Harry kept his voice low. “It’s about Professor Laddley. You said you were friends with his late mother?”

Aberforth nodded but looked reserved.

“Well… I’ve been told… that years ago Professor Laddley and Lucius Malfoy were–“

“That’s none of your business, Harry,” Aberforth interrupted.

“So you know about it? The fight they had?”

Aberforth snorted. “Fight? That’s hardly the right word… Lucius Malfoy’s cussedness more likely. But Malfoy got away with it as usual. Well, now he’s locked up for different reasons and that’s that.”

“Right. But I still need to know what has happened, Mr Dumbledore, it might be important for the issue… the issue I told you about last time we talked, remember?” Harry pleaded.

“No, you don’t. The Laddleys have suffered enough,” Aberforth shook his head, “leave Greg alone, Harry, he’s got plenty on his plate without your snooping.”

“But –“

“No!” Aberforth cut him off again. “Leave it, Harry! I will never tell you – it’s personal and painful and – frankly that’s none of your damn business, boys!” He glared at them.

Crossing his arms in front of his chest Harry raised his voice, “Well, you might think this is none of our business, but there’s an official enquiry going on. You make it sound as if we were just two nosy school-boys! But McGonagall agreed on asking you and – franky, I thought you might prefer to tell us, before the Auror Department decides to interrogate officially.”

“What is this?” Aberforth narrowed his eyes, “are you threatening me, kid? Tell you what, I don’t give a fucking shit about the bloody Aurors or your fame! You’re way out of your league, kid – “

“Stop calling me ‘ _kid’_!” Harry was furious.

“Is there a problem, boss?” shouted Tadgh. The barman had stopped digging and apparently watched their exchange. “You want me to kick the lads out in the streets?”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Ron pulling at Harry’s arm. “It’s okay, Harry, calm down. Mr Dumbledore will have his reasons,” he addressed the older man, “Sorry, Mr Dumbledore – we did not want to upset you. We’ll just leave now, okay?”

Aberforth nodded without a word and pointed at a small gate at the back of the garden.

Harry pushed Ron’s hand away. “No! Listen, I won’t – “ he protested.

Tadgh stepped next to his boss and both men looked grim and determined. “Better listen to your pal, lad,” the bartender said with a growl.

“Come on, Harry, let’s go,” Ron gave Harry a meaningful look, turned to leave and grudgingly Harry followed his example.

They passed the wooden gate and found themselves in a narrow back lane between kitchen gardens.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. “What was that about? Aberforth behaves as if I wanted to expose Laddley! At the same time he insists that Lucius Malfoy was the one causing trouble – and for what it’s worth, I’m inclined to believe that… so why would it hurt Laddley, if people knew, what happened all those years ago?”

“No idea.” Ron shrugged. “Boy, that guy Tadgh really is weird, you didn’t exaggerate, Harry. Did you see his hands, holding that spade? Those freakishly long fingers, they look like white spiders… and I wonder what’s wrong with his eyes? You say he always wears those glasses, even indoors? Strange.” Ron shook his head. “Come on, let’s get back to the castle. You better tell McGonagall the whole story… there’s something fishy about Laddley’s past for sure.”

***

When Harry and Ron touched down near Hogwarts’ guest house half an hour later, they were surprised to find Josh Jordan waiting near the main door, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. Harry realized he had only ever seen Josh wearing robes, either the formal robes of a Hogwarts professor or brown Aurors’ robes. Josh looked much younger and far more attractive in his present outfit.

“Hey, guys,” Josh called, “back from the village? Zabini said you would not be gone for long.” He turned to Harry, “You have a minute to spare, Harry?”

“Of course, what’s up?”

Ron gave Harry a questioning look, nodded towards Josh and went inside.

Josh exhaled deeply. “I just wanted to say good-buy… and explain a few things.”

“Good-buy?” Harry was confused, “You mean, you’re leaving for the weekend?”

“No, Harry, I have to go back to London permanently. I’ve been suspended for the time being – “

“What?!” Harry shouted.

Josh nodded and kicked his heel in the ground. “Yep. Looks like I’ve fucked up my career pretty badly.”

“But… that’s awful, Josh! Why are you suspended? What for?”

“Main reason? I confessed to removing Draco’s tracking spell. You know about that, I assume?” Josh frowned and Harry nodded.

“The damn thing didn’t work properly from the very beginning. Again and again Draco was having fits of nausea. Usually people get used to the tracker within a few days, his mother for example had no trouble at all to adjust. But not Draco. Of course I reported that back as soon as I was aware of the problem. I even helped Draco file a complaint after a few weeks when nothing changed. I have no idea how he managed while he was in Edinburgh, but when I saw him still suffering from side-effects here at Hogwarts, being sometimes hardly able to eat, and no one from the head-quarter seemed to bother, I removed the damn thing.” Josh sighed. “Of course the ministry found out now… because we can’t locate him.”

“Fuck! That’s awful, Josh!”

“Well, I’ll have to wait and see, what the fact-finding committee has to say about it. I hope the Auror department won’t sack me for good, but my time teaching at Hogwarts is definitely over.”

“But… that’s so unfair! You were the best D.A.D.A. teacher we ever had – everybody says so!”

Josh grinned. “Yeah? Thanks, Harry… you know what’s funny? I wasn’t too keen on taking this position in the first place but then I really enjoyed teaching! I’m gonna miss my classes.” He shook his head.

Then he gave Harry a meaningful look. “Hey, I won’t ask you about Draco’s whereabouts but I am pretty sure you know more than you let Kingsley know –“

“Josh, I can’t –“

Josh raised his hand. “– wait, just listen. I’m… I still don’t know, what exactly is going on but Kingsley told me that _I myself_ have been a suspect of sorts for some time now – and let me tell you, that feels pretty weird! I mean, I’m an Auror, a teacher and I was still a suspect?” He shook his head. “Apparently I’ve been cleared and Draco is the main suspect now?”

Harry squirmed.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to say anything, ok? What I wanted to tell you… I want you to know, that I am totally convinced of Draco Malfoy’s innocence. Whatever the crime in question may be. Draco is serious about his probation, about respecting the law, I’m sure about that. He’s truly reformed and I think that his affection for you has been no small reason for his remorse.” Josh looked intently at Harry.

“That’s… reassuring.” Harry gulped. “But… why are you telling me this?”

“Because… I’m pretty sure that you trust him… but if you ever start to doubt his intentions, you might want to remember what I said.” Josh sighed. “And I also wanted to tell you what I found out about his trouble with the damn tracker. Maybe this can even help to clear his name.”

Now Harry was more than interested, he looked eagerly at Josh, “Okay, go on!”

“The thing is, whenever Draco was feeling the side-effects badly, at the very same time the tracker would report a false-positive location.”

“What?!” Harry gawped at Josh.

The young Auror nodded. “I first realized this accordance in September, when I was at the Manor, talking to Draco about his transfer to Hogwarts. He suddenly became white as a sheet and felt apparently sick. Mere minutes later I was fire-called by the Ministry – the tracker had reported Draco’s appearance in London. Of course I immediately sorted this mistake out. And I also started to take notes. I asked Draco to tell me whenever the side-effects increased and without exception I always got a false-positive alarm at the same time.”

“Whoa! That can’t be a coincidence! And nobody at the damn Ministry cared about that?” Harry was appalled.

Josh shook his head. “To be fair – Kingsley tried to get the tracking office to do something about it but without result.” He sighed. “After two weeks at Hogwarts seeing him still suffer, I decided enough is enough. And I removed the spell. I thought, here at Hogwarts, basically living under the same roof twenty-four-seven, I can keep an eye on him without the tracker. But I kept wondering… why had it malfunctioned that way? And then it hit me: What if the tracker went off the rails, whenever there would be two Draco’s around?” He looked intently at Harry.

“Polyjuice?” Harry gasped.

“My thoughts precisely.” Josh nodded. “When Kingsley told me yesterday evening about my suspension, I knew my time at Hogwarts was up and I decided to take my chance and asked for Professor Slughorn’s opinion. What happens, if someone is polyjuiced, while being tracked?” Josh grinned. “Slughorn was intrigued. He just said, ‘ _I don’t know – let’s find out!’_ And that’s what we did yesterday evening. He produced the potion – must have kept a bottle at the ready – and I put the tracker on myself. As soon as Slughorn changed into my physiognomy –“

“Oh Merlin,” Harry groaned, “Slughorn transformed to your appearance?”

“I think that was part of the experiment’s attraction for him,” Josh winked at Harry, “anyway – would you rather have it the other way round?”

Harry winced.

“Exactly, me neither. So – as soon as Slughorn was transformed, I felt sick as hell and the tracker went baloney. When he changed back, I was okay again and so was the tracker.”

“That’s brilliant, Josh! Now we have proof that someone out there regularly disguised himself as Draco!”

“Yep – and what’s more, we even have records of that person’s actions.”

Harry grabbed Josh’s wrist. “Fuck, of course! You’re a bloody genius! We just need the records of Draco’s false-positive alarms from the tracking office to know where that person went pretending to be Draco!”

“… and I think I’ll manage to get those records even although I’m suspended. I’ve got my connections, you know,” Josh grinned. “As soon as I’m in London I’ll try to get my hands on the list of Draco’s alarms and send it to you. Maybe this will help.”

“But… why are you telling _me_ about this? Shouldn’t you talk to Kingsley?”

“Frankly I’m not too keen on speaking with Kingsley at the moment,” Josh said, “but it’s your decision of course. If you want to do this the official way, you can tell him and I will back off. But be warned – it might take longer to get those records, if the Auror Office files an official request, longer than using my contacts.”

Harry nodded. “I see. Fair enough. You complained months ago – so they’ve had their chance… I agree, let’s do this behind the A.D.’s back now.”


	33. Playing Cards

Harry decided to keep Josh’s disclosure to himself for the time being. He wanted to tell Ron and Hermione of course, but feared Hermione might try to convince him to share that piece of information with Kingsley and he was unwilling to do that. He just hoped that Slughorn would not give anything away, but considering that Slughorn was not part of the investigating team and therefore clueless about Josh’s intentions, Harry thought that unlikely.

Right after lunch the Headmistress asked Harry to attend another investigation meeting in her sitting room and to bring Ron and Hermione along. His friends had never been to the Headmistress’ private quarters before and were thoroughly impressed by the spacious room with its paintings and magnificent view.

Looking at Bellevue Beach Harry was pleased to see Headmistresses Da Ponte and Darknight strolling along the waterside. Apparently the abduction had not spoiled their favourite painting for them. He found the sight of two elderly ladies walking hand in hand rather touching. On the far end of the beach he spotted Daisy. She threw a stick in the air which Pinkie retrieved above the waves. _What a perfect picture of a beach holiday,_ Harry thought.

But those were not the only Imagics present. Once again Severus Snape’s Imagic was sitting in the frame propped up on an aisle next to the suite of chairs and sofas. Harry was much amused by the fact that the suspicious black poodle was sitting comfortably on the Imagic’s lap. Snape must have overcome his aversion of dogs pretty quickly, seeing that he petted the poodle quite fondly.

The meeting started with a bang – at least for Flitwick, Ron and Hermione. Headauror and Headmistress informed the others of Josh Jordan’s dismissal from Hogwarts as he had confessed to the removal of Draco’s tracking spell. They explained, that Josh was temporarely suspended from Auror duties, while at the same time they considered his involvement in the abduction of Imagics most unlikely. Josh Jordan had been thoroughly interrogated and his answers gave no reason to doubt his innocence in that matter.

 _So now we are officially one suspect down,_ Harry thought, not that he had ever believed Josh to be involved. Ron gave Harry a questioning look – apparently Ron guessed that Josh must have told Harry all about his dismissal this morning already.

Kingsley cleared his voice. “Regrettably as Auror Jordan’s misbehaviour might be, it made us question our conduct of this investigation. The Headmistress and I think that it is time to interrogate all of the remaining suspects – as far as we can get hold of them. Professor Tharros has already agreed on being questioned later this afternoon and we will talk to Professor Laddley tomorrow as soon as he comes back from London. He is visiting his brother in St. Mungo’s again, as is his custom. Now that we have all the Imagics but Dumbledore’s back, we saw no reason to keep Laddley at Hogwarts for another weekend.”

“By eliminating suspects we might be able to clear the incident board from irrelevant facts,” the Headmistress added pointing at the board.

“Right,” Harry mumbled. As much as he was impressed by the sheer amount of information that had recently been added to the incident board –mostly the results of Hermione's reasearch– he felt like they might soon drown in facts and not be any wiser.

“Eliminating suspects, I agree,” cried Flitwick, “on the other hand Ms Granger has provided us with lots of fascinating new insights about Mean Arts – maybe you could give us a summary of your findings, just like you told me this morning, Ms Granger?”

Hermione blushed, but was still eager to oblige. Soon enough she and Flitwick were engrossed in details about Magical Arts, that were far beyond Harry’s comprehension. His thoughts drifted… Should he write to Draco about Josh’s findings? Would Draco be upset to learn that someone had polyjuiced his appearance again and again for months? And where the fuck had the perpetrator gotten hold of Draco’s hair?

Apparently Harry was not the only one who had stopped listening, as Kingsley Shacklebolt and Headmistress McGonagall started a whispered conversation of their own about the necessity of prolonged Auror presence at school. As far as Harry understood, McGonagall wanted the Headauror to withdraw his team from the castle, but he flat-out refused.

Harry was very glad that Ron was present – at least someone to exchange an eye-roll with once in a while.

“Listen,” Harry finally interrupted both of the ongoing discussions, “fascinating as all of this might be – Ron and I wanted to tell you something as well. In fact this might be quite useful to know before you interrogate Laddley.”

“Oh,” said McGonagall, “right, we all got a bit carried away I’m afraid… maybe you want to continue now, Harry?” She seemed slightly embarrassed by the less then disciplined course the meeting had taken.

When Harry and Ron gave their report of this morning’s visit at the village, their audience seemed unimpressed. Hermione of course already knew what had happened, but the members of staff did not look convinced at all, although Harry insisted on the importance of a previous conflict between Lucius Malfoy and Gregory Laddley.

“Well, thank you Harry, we’ll keep that in mind when questioning Professor Laddley,” the Headmistress nodded, still looking doubtful. “If you are right, their conflict must have occurred after they finished school… as far as I know those two were never close, but I can’t remember any significant tension either. You were younger than them, Severus, but also in Slytherin – did you hear any rumours about a previous conflict?”

“I’m afraid not, Minerva,” said Snape’s Imagic. He ran his fingers through the poodle’s fur and the tiny dog flopped on his back presenting his naked belly to the Imagic.

“What’s with the dog, Professor?” Harry could not refrain from asking, “did you find his painting of origin?”

Snape seemed slightly irritated. “Well, no, Mr Potter… in fact Professor Flitwick thinks,” he looked at his former colleague, who nodded eagerly, “that Mephisto –that’s what I’ve decided to call the poodle– has been painted right into the boudoir in all likelihood.”

The tiny dog seemed to be aware of his given name because he jumped up, wagged his tail frantically and licked the Imagic’s hand.

“Good boy, Mephisto,” Snape said, “now sit!” – and the dog obeyed.

“Wow, you really have the knack for handling a dog, Professor,” Ron grinned.

Snape seemed quite pleased by Ron's praise,“Well, yes, it seems I underestimated the joys of having a pet.”

“But what about the… the naked lady? Won’t she miss him terribly?” Hermione asked, “Now that she no longer enjoys the company of other ladies to play cards with?”

“Don’t worry, Ms Granger,” said Flitwick, “as the dog was not part of the original painting, she will be quite content without him.” He addressed Harry, “The former trap-painting is still at my office as I’ve continued to question the remaining Imagic without success. Maybe she was never able to talk, maybe Lodovicus Malfoy simply did not paint her that way.”

Harry gasped. Suddenly an idea hit him.

“But of course she can talk!” he said eagerly. “Professor Flitwick, I think we have made a major mistake… the way we were trying to get the naked lady to talk!”

“Why’s that?”

“Remember what Hermione just said – when the painting was discovered, she sat at a card table with three abducted Imagics! _They played cards_ , for Merlin’s sake! And that’s all about communication! I’ve been told as much by my cards loving class-mates… one simply cannot play without talking. Players need to agree on the rules and make some basic arrangements, right?” Harry said.

“Brilliant!” cried Flitwick. “You think instead of interrogating her directly, we simply have to ask some other Imagic to get her to talk!”

“Exactly!” Harry looked around beaming. Everybody seemed to be just as pleased by this idea as Harry himself. Everybody but Snape.

“Don’t look at me, I refuse!” said the Imagic with a flushed face. “Stepping in for the Fat Lady is one thing, but I will not visit that… that lady of easy virtue again! Even if she were dressed properly! It was embarrassing enough to get Mephisto out of that dreadful painting – and by the way, she kept quiet for all the while I was there, did not even respond when I asked her about the dog’s name.”

“Don’t worry, Professor,” said Harry, “I think we best ask the formerly abducted Headmistresses – if I am right, they have talked to her before and might therefore have some sort of connection.”

“Good thinking, Harry!” said McGonagall with a smile, “I shall ask them immediately.”

“And tell them the painting is in my office, will you, Minerva!” Flitwick cried.

She stood up, walked towards the painting of Bellevue Beach and quietly talked to her predecessors. Soon enough the two Imagics stepped out of the frame.

“I suggest we take a break until the headmistresses return,” McGonagall said walking back to the other investigators and with one swift movement of her wand all of the coffee tables were set with tea and an assortment of snacks and sweets. “Help yourself, will you!”

Ron certainly did not need to be encouraged. He grinned widely and stuffed his mouth with a chocolate treat. When he grabbed for another one before he had even gulped down the first, Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and Harry chuckled.

Kingsley Shacklebolt took his cup of tea, got up and stepped in front of a window. He seemed to admire the view over the grounds and Harry went to join him. The sun had disappeared behind thick clouds and the landscape looked perfectly November-ish.

“It’s a shame that Auror Jordan has to leave Hogwarts,” said Harry, “and I’m certain all the other students will feel the same. He’s an excellent teacher, you know.”

“Yeah? You think so?” the Headauror looked unconvinced. “I’m not so sure… Minerva was not totally happy with him either. Says he’s a bit of a distraction with half of the students fawning over him. He’s too young, I guess, makes it difficult to keep up proper boundaries with his students.”

“Still – don’t you think it’s a bit harsh to sack him for overstepping the line just once?”

“What makes you think he will be dismissed?” Kingsley Shacklebolt raised his eye-brows. “I most certainly won’t get rid of one of my best young Aurors because he did something behind my back – which, by the way, I would have permitted him to do, if asked.”

“Oh – I didn’t –“

“No, Josh just needs to learn a lesson and therefore he’s suspended. The Auror department is all about team work, Harry! It is crucial that we trust each other – you might well keep that in mind, for your own application… I fear, you also have a tendency of dealing with stuff alone or just with a few trusted friends.” Kingsley nodded towards Ron and Hermione.

“But I can’t have a lone wolf in my department and to trust only your partner is not enough either. Josh should simply have told me – and I would have respected his assessment of the problem and granted permission to remove the spell. Then it would have been my responsibility and not his. His mistake was to go behind my back, not the removal of the spell – do you understand?”

Harry nodded. He felt deeply uncomfortable about Josh’s further enquiries of the interaction between tracking spell and Polyjuice Potion… Kingsley needed to know and it better be Josh who delivered the message or the young Auror might be in even more trouble.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry said, “if you’ll excuse me… bathroom.” He nodded and turned to leave.

“Just outside, Harry, next door to the left,” McGonagall called after him.

Harry stepped into the corridor. He carefully closed the carved door behind him, before he adressed his Patronus to Josh, urging him to tell Kingsley all about his latest findings as soon as possible.

 _Is Josh still at Hogwarts or has he left already?_ Harry wondered. _And will he send a message in return? What’s his Patronus again… a stallion, right?_

But no silvery horse appeared. After several minutes without a reply, Harry was afraid to hesitate any longer, afraid that his continued absence might raise suspicions.

Reluctantly he reentered the Headmistress’ quarters – to find Ron in the focus of everybody’s attention. His best friend had risen from his chair and just stood there shock frozen, white as a sheet and gawping.

“What’s the matter, Ron?” Harry asked bewildered, “what’s happened?”

“Well, Mr Weasley just found out whom I intend to hire as D.A.D.A. teacher replacing Auror Jordan – if the Board of School Governors permits it, that is,” the Headmistress explained.

“Harry! – Mum! – Merlin’s freaking belly button!” Ron croaked, “My mum’s going to be a teacher!”

After the confirmation that, yes, indeed, Molly Weasley was about to be appointed D.A.D.A. teacher, the meeting ended quickly enough.

“It seems as if Headmistress Da Ponte’s and Headmistress Darknight’s Imagics will not return as quickly as expected…” McGonagall said looking at her pocket watch, “let us continue in the evening or maybe even tomorrow – I’ll let you know. Headauror Shacklebolt and I have to prepare for the interrogation of Professor Tharros and I believe there is an owl waiting for me,” she nodded towards the window where an official looking barn owl was pecking at the window pane.

“Mr Weasley needs to overcome his shock and I’m sure you have homework to do?” She added and dismissed Harry and his friends with an amused look.

“Let’s go to Gryffindor Tower – I’ve got to tell Ginny,” Ron said as soon as they were outside the Headmistress’ sitting room, “the poor thing has even one more year to endure this blow of fate!”

“Come on Ron – surely it’s not that bad!” Harry said with a grin. After the initial shock of having his surrogate mother as a teacher –Molly nagged at him nearly as much as at her children– Harry decided to be damn proud of her.

“Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher at Hogwarts – that’s supposed to be one of the coolest jobs in the witcharding world! At least as good as Headauror, maybe even better, if you ask me!” he said.

“I had no idea, Molly was such a star in Defence!” Hermione said hurrying next to Ron, who seemed determined to reach Gryffindor Tower in record time. “But of course she must be excellent! After all she was the one to defeat Bellatrix Lestrange!”

“Well, you heard the Headmistress, she had outstanding grades in every single D.A.D.A. exam… Merlin, I had no idea about that… mind you, we’ve had a subscription of _The Defence Quarterly_ at the Burrow as long as I can remember, but I always assumed this was dad’s thing! Come to think of it the journal mostly rests on her bedside table, not on dad’s.” Ron shook his head. “When mum was always pushing us kids to excel in Defence, I thought it’s because she wants us to be safe – not because she’s an ace in this!”

“And of course she wants us all to be safe, I’m sure about it and that's why she'll be an excellent teacher,” Harry said. They had finally climbed the staircase to Gryffindor Tower. “Does anyone know the password by the way?”

“Erm… no, sorry,” Ron said staring at the Fat Lady.

“Pity, Mr Weasley,” replied the Imagic.

“Come on, you know us – we’re not exactly a threat to Gryffindor Tower – let us in!”

“You could at least ask nicely! What’s the magic word, Mr Weasley?” the Fat Lady glared at him.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Please.”

“Exactly,” said the portrait and swung open, “and that is this week’s password by the way.”

They climbed through and Hermione chuckled. “ _’Please’_ is the password? Not really a high security choice, is it?”

“This is not about security, it’s about teaching your lot some manners!” shouted the Imagic before closing with a thud.

Ginny was expecting them, sharing one high-backed chair with Cass.

She took one look at her brother and said, “So you’ve heard, huh? Don’t you even dare to complain, Ron! You’re out of here in a few months! It’s my fate to stay for one more fucking year after this one!” 

Ron was about to open his mouth but Harry beat him to it.

“You know what? Stop whining! You’re damn selfish, the two of you!” He was really annoyed. “I think it’s brilliant for Molly to get that job! Don’t you think it’s tough for her to be all alone at the Burrow, especially since we’ve lost Fred? Your mum raised you all – hell, she even raised me! And now she more than deserves an interesting occupation! Give her some credit! You should be damn proud of your mum instead of playing Moaning Myrtle!”

Ron and Ginny looked mortified.

Hermione nodded. “I totally agree with Harry. Plus Molly’s going to be brilliant at keeping students in check! This woman was trained by Fred and George – she’ll have no problems with discipline. Grant you, it might be a little bit awkward at first, not just for you but for me as well, seeing she’s practically my mother-in-law – but I’m sure she’ll handle this fair.” She turned towards Cass. “You needn’t worry, Cassy – Molly is such a kind person, she’ll take to you in an instant.”

Ron sighed and nodded. “Fair enough.”

“Fine! That’s settled then! No more whining, let’s celebrate!” Harry said. “A toast to our new Defence teacher!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 33 chapters done, 11 more to go.  
> Lovely readers, if you happen to enjoy my story, I'd be delighted about social media postings to attract new readers. *greeeedy Auntie*  
> Tumblr, reddit, livejournal, facebook, twitter, instagram... wherever you post, it's fine and I'd be grateful. Cheerio!


	34. Sylvia Silver's Story

> _The early hours of Sunday 8 th of November 1998_
> 
> _Dearest Superhero,_
> 
> _one week has passed since I have had to leave the charming premises of Hogwarts. I assume both of us hoped it would be just a matter of days until the truth was unearthed about this ridiculous fraud. Alas! Not so. Therefore I attempt to adjust and try to make the best of my present situation – which is most certainly easier said than done._
> 
> _Harry, you have asked how I spend my days. Prepare yourself for some seriously shocking news: I am learning the Muggle way of running a household. (I imagine you are crackling with laughter at this point. Go on – I don’t mind.) And I am very proud of myself for having learned a few things already:_
> 
> _1 Draco Malfoy has been one spoilt brat up until now._
> 
> _2 Muggle household equipment is highly fascinating – if difficult to figure out._
> 
> _3 I like to cook. It’s a bit like Potions with a significantly lower risk of poisoning someone._
> 
> _Luckily my hosts are very generous and sympathetic. They have accepted fact No 1 as mentioned above (me = spoilt brat) and are very patient to explain how this stuff needs to be done._
> 
> _What encourages me to carry on:_
> 
> _1 I want to make at least some meagre contribution to my hosts’ household._
> 
> _2 I need to prepare myself in case of having to stay in the Muggle world permanently._
> 
> _3 My father would go berserk, if he saw me – doing a House-elf’s work for Muggles!_
> 
> _I have to admit that No 3 is my strongest motive. As far as point 2 is concerned – I can see now that my phantasy about going Muggle was just that, a phantasy. Hiding my true wizard’s nature for days on end feels weird and exhausting. In a way it’s like living in yet another kind of closet – although I am out as gay in this place. As much as I like my hosts – they are the most decent human beings one can imagine – I sincerely hope to get back to our own world and soon._
> 
> _Having said that, Harry, I want you to know: If I can do anything to clear up this mess of missing Imagics, if you think the time has come for me to give a statement, I’ll turn myself in immediately. I totally trust your assessment of the risks involved and will never blame you for any consequences – even if I end up like my father. Just tell me when it’s time to come home._
> 
> _Still a stag, Draco_

Only a few hours after Draco must have written these lines, Harry was still in bed reading and rereading the letter Otto had delivered at dawn. He smiled to himself, relieved that Draco had come to his senses and dropped the crazy idea of going Muggle. On the other hand, the mental image of young Master Malfoy busily cooking and cleaning was highly entertaining – disregarding the unknown entity of his hosts. As Draco kept referring to them in plural form, Harry had to fight a mental image of a shared house full of hot young men, who all tried to get into Draco’s pants. Which was ridiculous of course. Draco had written nothing to suggest anything like that, but still.

Harry looked at Otto. His pet had been at this unknown place – if only he could ask the owl what it was like? Otto was fast asleep now, sitting on the back of a chair. This was exactly how Harry’s pet spent every day lately. Apparently he did not want to sleep at the owlery during day-time between his nightly flights and Harry was way too grateful for Otto’s efforts to ban him from his room. Without Otto, he would not be able to keep in touch with Draco – which would make the whole situation unbearable.

Did Draco really write his letters in the middle of the night, just before he sent Otto on his way back – or did he prepare them in advance? Harry wondered… with a sigh he put the last letter to the others. He kept them in his Sporran at the bedside table. The leather pouch reminded him of their first date – although Halloween had most certainly not ended the way he had wished for.

Half an hour later Harry entered the common room for his Sunday morning tea – and for keeping the memory of precious time spent with Draco part of his daily routine. Polly squeaked excitedly as soon as she laid eyes on Harry and ran from the Wizards’ Wood. What was that about? Harry kept an eye on the painting while preparing his tea and was not at all surprised when Severus Snape’s Imagic turned up mere minutes later, with Polly sitting on his shoulder and the black poodle at his heel.

“Good morning, Professor,” said Harry, “What’s up? Any news on the investigation?”

Snape looked grave. “Yes, indeed, Mr Potter.” He sighed. “Professor Tharros’ name has been cleared. Headmistress McGonagall and Headauror Shacklebolt conducted a most thorough interrogation yesterday evening and the present Head of Gryffindor House seems to be completely uninvolved in the abduction of Imagics.”

Harry nodded, he had expected as much. “But that’s not all, right? You’re upset about something – what is it?”

“Headmistress McGonagall and Auror Shacklebolt left Hogwarts in the early hours for London–”

“What? I thought they would interrogate Laddley today?” Harry interrupted.

“This is all about Professor Laddley, Mr Potter. You are quite right, he was expected to return from London this afternoon. But the Headmistress was fire-called from St Mungos late at night. Gregory Laddley collapsed at the hospital while visiting his brother. His condition is serious and the Healers are fighting for his life.”

“No! This can’t be true!” Harry shouted.

“I’m afraid it is. The Headmistress promised to keep us updated as soon as she learns more about the matter. At the moment the Healers try to figure what has happened to him – the diagnosis is yet unclear. They are fighting to keep his vital functions intact. That is all we know for the time being.”

“Oh Merlin, that’s awful,” Harry was shocked. Although he despised Laddley’s conduct towards Tommy and had thought the Muggle Studies teacher a plausible suspect, he had never wanted Laddley dead. What had actually happened? Had Laddley been attacked or was he having a health breakdown? And what was to be done until they learned more about it? 

Suddenly Polly jumped to the ground from Snape’s shoulder and went off between the trees. With one surprisingly deep bark Mephisto started to chase her. Harry was slightly worried for Polly’s sake but before he had a chance to say something about it, the squirrel ran up a trunk and eyed the poodle from above. Mephisto winced excitedly and wagged his tail until Polly leaped right onto his back. Soon enough they were rolling around in a ball of fur obviously having a lot of fun. In spite of the latest news Harry could not help smiling and so did Snape’s Imagic.

The poodle reminded Harry of another Imagic.

“What about the naked lady? Any luck getting her to talk?”

“Actually, yes… deputy Headmaster Flitwick has asked to see you after breakfast at his office… Ms Granger and Mr Weasley are also welcome.” The Imagic smirked, “I think Filius has taken an even stronger liking to Ms Granger since she has told him about her research. I got the impression that he now has a serious grudge against the Sorting Hat, for not putting her in Ravenclaw.”

***

“Come in,” cried Flitwick as soon as Harry, Hermione and Ron knocked at the door to his office.

“Good Morning, Professor,” said Harry, “Snape’s… sorry, Headmaster Snape’s Imagic told us to see you?”

“Yes, exactly,” Flitwick beamed at Hermione in a way that made Harry suspect that himself and Ron hardly mattered at all. Which was not a totally unpleasant feeling as far as Harry was concerned.

“Ah, Ms Granger, come along, come along, I want to show you something – and you of course Mr Potter, Mr Weasley,” Flitweak squeaked excitedly and guided them to the boudoir painting resting on top of an easel at the back of his room.

The formerly naked lady was again dressed in her elegant morning gown, the one she had worn when the painting had been discovered. Now she was sitting on the chaise longue with Headmistress Nightingale’s Imagic next to her, holding her hand. Headmistress Da Ponte’s Imagic stood right behind them.

“Ah, here you are,” Da Ponte’s Imagic said nodding at Harry and his friends, “we want to introduce you to our new friend Ms Sylvia Silver. Sylvia, this is Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Although they are still students at Hogwarts they have already been rewarded with the Order of Merlin first class for their successful fight against Voldemort.” She paused, then added proudly, “Of course they are all Gryffindors!”

Ms Silver’s Imagic lowered her eyes and whispered, “Delighted to make your acquaintance…” while Harry and his friends said their hellos.

“No need to be shy, Ms Silver,” said Flitwick in a soothing voice, “just tell us what has happened to you.” He addressed the students. “I haven’t heard her story yet, the Headmistresses just informed me that Ms Silver is finally prepared to talk to humans.”

The formerly naked lady blushed while both Da Ponte’s and Nightingale’s Imagic patted her shoulders encouragingly and she began to tell her story.

“My name is Sylvia Silver and I used to be Sir Lodovicus Malfoy’s favourite model …” her blush increased some more and she added nearly inaudibly, “and his mistress.”

“No need to be ashamed, my dear,” said Headmistress Nightingale, “times were different then… even more difficult for a woman than today. You did what you had to do, to get by, didn’t you, my dear?”

“Nobody is going to judge you, Sylvia.” Headmistress Da Ponte said with a stern look at the humans. “Right?”

“Of course not,” cried Flitwick and Harry and his friends just nodded. It was quite embarrassing to hear about stuff like that in the presence of a teacher.

“Sir Lodovicus used to keep this painting,” Sylvia made a gesture around her boudoir, “at his dressing room in Malfoy Manor as long as he lived, even after my death. But when he himself died some years later my painting was put into storage and for decades, nobody ever saw me or spoke to me. I would have loved to visit other paintings at the Manor but of course I could not call on anyone without clothes on! Then one day the Imagic of Miss Lydia Malfoy, Lododvicus’ grand-niece, explored the storage and accidentally stumbled into my room – and we became friends.”

The Imagic smiled warmly and once again Harry marvelled at her beauty. “Lydia gave me this gown and eventually she brought other ladies to my room as well. I was so happy! It was wonderful to have some company again and most of the ladies were quite relieved to retreat to a place without gentlemen once in a while… Lydia said that there are some really ghastly Imagics around at Malfoy Manor! Anyway – my lady-friends taught me how to play Bridge and I became quite good at it!” she said proudly as her voice became more confident.

“Yes, you most certainly are, my dear,” said Nightingale’s Imagic squeezing her hand. “But go on – tell us about what happened this summer.”

Sylvia sighed deeply, “My painting was removed from the storage. It must have happened while I was asleep. When I awoke one morning I found my painting standing on an easel like this one and a stranger was tipping his brush into my space!” She looked abhorred.

“That must have been quite a shock,” Da Ponte’s Imagic nodded gravely.

 _Who was he? What did he look like?_ Harry wanted to ask, but he kept silent and let the Imagic go on with her story.

“Oh it was horrible, Amanda,” Sylvia said, “I was so afraid! When the stranger saw that I was awake he started to ask me all sorts of questions! But Lodovicus had never wanted me to talk to other men so I was too afraid to answer! I just kept quiet and in the end, I think, he thought me unable to speak at all. _‘All for the better, if you can’t give me away!’_ he said.”

“When I saw what he created I relaxed a little bit, because first he just gave me a pet. You have seen my poodle, I presume? He is the best dog in the world! Only yesterday this… this gentleman’s Imagic,” she blushed, “took him away and now I miss Pippin terribly – Pippin, that’s what I’ve called him. But only after the strange artist had left us alone, I never said a word while he was around.”

“You need not worry, Sylvia,” said Headmistress Nightingale, “Severus Snape is a good person, in spite of his intimidating looks. He will return your dog as soon as we tell him, that you miss your pet, I am quite certain of it.”

Snape’s Imagic would be not altogether happy to let go of the dog again, Harry mused looking at Sylvia, who blushed some more. Which reminded Harry of Draco.

“Oh I did not feel intimidated by this Mr Snape, not at all,” Sylvia whispered, “in fact… I think him quite handsome.”

Harry and Ron exchanged surprised glances, while Hermione crooned something like, “Ohhh – how sweet is that!”

Professor Flitwick cleared his voice. “Very well, Ms Silver, let us get back to what this unknown artist did – please carry on.”

“As I said, first he just created Pippin but then he painted other stuff into my room as well, two letters and a bottle. He told me to put one of the letters into the empty bottle and then he trained Pippin to carry these items around at his command. That wasn’t too bad. Finally he seemed to be satisfied with Pippin’s obedience and then he did something horrible with my painting – I don’t know what exactly he did, I just felt terribly sick and even lost consciousness for a while.” She shivered.

 _That must have been the trapping hex applied,_ Harry thought. He exchanged glances with Flitwick and his friends and they all nodded, obviously coming to the same conclusion.

“When I awoke again, I could not see anything, because the painting had been wrapped. And it also felt like being shrunk… then finally another man, much younger as the artist and far more handsome, removed the cover and hung my painting in his bedroom. But he was very strange… when he unwrapped my painting and first laid eyes on me he seemed quite pleased to see me. Then he did not return to his room for days and when he finally showed up again he was… he seemed repelled. He looked at me as if… as if he was totally embarrassed by my presence in his room!”

Sylvia looked at the other female Imagics’ with pleading eyes. “Why did he put me there in the first place, if he did not like the looks of me? I tried to make myself especially appealing, like Lodovicus had told me to do, taking off my gown and smiling at him… but then he seemed even more distressed.” She sighed. “Finally he took my painting down and stored it in his closet. That is when Pippin disappeared as well and I was devastated, all alone in that closet for days. But Pippin turned up again, first with Amanda and Selena – “ she smiled at the Headmistresses, “and later on your friend Voluptia joined us – “

Both Headmistresses’ Imagics snorted.

“– and we played Bridge and I was quite content,” the Imagic shrugged apologetically before she addressed the former Headmistresses, “I had no idea you were trapped with me!” She dropped her glance and sighed, “I am so very sorry!”

“No need to apologise, Ms Silver,” Flitwick said, “none of what has happened is any of you fault! Maybe you can even help us to solve this crime! The first question is – can you describe those men, how they looked like? The strange artist and the young man?”

“I can try… well, they were both blonde –“ she whispered.

Harry’s heart clenched. If Sylvia Silvers’s Imagic described Draco in a recognisable way, he would be even more incriminated than before!

Ron interrupted, “Wait a minute – why don’t we do this the Muggle way?”

“What precisely are you suggesting, Mr Weasley?” Flitwick said.

“Showing her a selection of pictures, including our suspects – maybe she can identify them!”

“That is a brilliant idea, Mr Weasley!” Flitwick nodded.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” Ron pulled a face, “just what they do in all those Muggle crime series…”

“May I have a go at it, Professor?” Hermione asked.

Flitwick nodded and she stepped behind the easel. After reproducing the incident board, she continued to mutter incantations for minutes and waved her wand frantically.

“Whatever is she doing …?” Flitwick wondered with a questioning look at Harry and Ron.

“Better not to interfere, Professor,” Ron whispered, “she’s having one of her ‘ _I-have-an-idea-and-know-exactly-what-to-do!_ ’–fits… its best to wait and see.”

“I can hear you, Ron!” Hermione shouted.

When she finally joined them again in front of the painting she held a large paperboard with twenty-five pictures arranged in five columns and five rows. They all showed blonde men and looked like passport photographs, except they were moving of course. Some blinked, some yawned and others looked around the room.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat when he saw Draco’s face among them… and yes, there were Lucius and Taurus Malfoy as well as Gregory Laddley. Some of the others looked slightly familiar too, Harry recognized at least two prominent Quidditch players and the owner from the Early Bird Café at Diagon Alley. Well, as the living breathing Sylvia Silver was long deceased, it was fairly unlikely she knew any of them.

“What a wonderful idea, Ms Granger, you are really a most talented witch!” cried Flitwick.

“Never mind it was actually _my_ idea,” muttered Ron under his breath and Harry grinned.

“So, Ms Silver, have a good look at these pictures, take your time.” Hermione said kindly. “If you happen to recognise any of these men, just tell us.”

Sylvia Silver furrowed her brow for a few seconds, then she nodded, “Yes, I can see them both. The strange artist – that’s the man in the second row, middle column.” She had identified Taurus Malfoy.

“And the handsome young man, that would be the picture in the bottom row, second from left.” Which was Draco’s picture. The blow did not come totally unexpected, but still Harry winced.

“You are quite certain, Ms Silver? No doubts whatsoever?” Flitwick asked.

“I am sure as can be, Professor,” her blues eyes widened and she looked pleadingly at the humans. “Why would I say so otherwise?”

“What about him? Have you ever seen this man as well?” Hermione pointed at Gregory Laddley’s face.

Sylvia Silver shook her head. “No, he does not look familiar at all.” She paused, “Well, the only other man who looks slightly familiar, is the one to his left. But I assume it is just because there is some likeness between him and the handsome young man.”

Again the investigators exchanged glances – Hermione had put Lucius Malfoy’s picture next to Gregory Laddley’s. Sylvia Silver seemed to be very observant and to have a good eye for faces, as she had spotted the likeness between father and son.

“Well thank you so much, Ms Silver. I think that is all for now,” Flitwick said. “Unless there is something else you wanted to tell us?”

Sylvia blushed again. “Actually, Professor, as my painting has been trifled with anyway – would it be possible to get some decent clothes? With only the choice between nakedness and this gown for so many years… it would be such a relief to be dressed properly again. I could meet other people, maybe go for a walk with Pippin…”

Flitwick seemed undecided. “Well, Ms Silver, this is a question of respecting another artist’s work… I don’t want to be as intrusive as this one,” he pointed at Taurus’ picture, “but on the other hand, as you said, your painting has been violated before.”

“Pray, Filius, be kind,” said Headmistress Nightingale’s Imagic, “this young woman has been going through enough lately, don’t you think she deserves to benefit at least a little bit too?”

“Very well,” Flitwick sighed, “you shall have your clothes, if you wish. But only if the painting’s owner agrees with it. It is still part of the Malfoy collection so I shall have to get permission from Ms Malfoy and the Ministry first.”


	35. Maiden-Elves

“Well, it’s obvious what has happened, isn’t it?” Hermione said. “Taurus Malfoy hexed the painting as we already knew he did. Then some person yet unknown – maybe Gregory Laddley or somebody else staying at Hogwarts – impersonated Draco by means of Polyjuice Potion, brought the painting to Hogwarts and hung it in Draco’s room. The real Draco, being anything but fond of the nude lady above his bed, took it down and stored it away.”

Harry could have kissed her for this statement. He just about refrained from actually hugging her in the presence of Flitwick and beamed at her instead. They had moved away from the former trap painting after encouraging an exhausted Sylvia Silver to take a nap and now sat around Flitwick’s desk to discuss the latest findings. 

“What makes you say that, Ms Granger?” Flitwick asked. “Why don’t you simply assume that uncle and nephew are in this together? They are both Slytherins, both former allies of Voldemort – they might simply try to weaken Hogwarts and especially the House of Gryffindor. A far more plausible explanation, don’t you think?”

“No,” Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest, “I am sorry to contradict you, Professor, but I don’t think so. First of all, if Draco Malfoy was actually involved in this scam, he would have covered his tracks. Instead we find blunt evidence pointing at him – far too obvious for my taste. Why put the trap painting in his very own room, for example? Hogwarts offers an abundance of storage rooms, secret alcoves and barely used closets. He could have hidden the painting out of sight easily. What is more – why give his ‘real’ name at the Ministry archives? Again, he could have disguised his presence without much effort. Draco is far too clever to make such mistakes.”

She shook her head. “We also have to keep in mind Draco never got along well with his uncle. In fact, Taurus Malfoy has been known to despise and envy his nephew for being heir to the Malfoy legacy. Just ask his daughter about it! Headmistress McGonagall must be aware of this family matter as well.”

“So you assume Draco is being framed by his uncle?” Flitwick raised his eyebrows.

“Exactly.” Hermione nodded vigorously. “I am pretty certain of it.”

“Well, Ms Granger, your theory might be quite accurate. We have strong reason to believe that Draco Malfoy has indeed been impersonated several times since his trial by means of Polyjuice Potion and that this might have been the reason for the frequent troubles with his tracking spell.”

He paused for a second. “What you can’t know is that yesterday in the late afternoon Auror Jordan came to the Headmistress’ office to share some observations. Your assumption, Ms Granger, about the use of Polyjuice is about the essence of it.” Flitwick beamed at her and seemed quite rapt away. “Very clever of you to come to this conclusion without know­ledge of Auror Jordan’s findings!”

“Well, actually –“ Hermione started to say –

But Harry cut her off, “Yes, very clever, Hermione! That makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it?”

Of course he had already told Hermione and Ron about Josh’s findings, but thought it best to fake surprise, because he did not want Josh to be in even more trouble for having told Harry first.

Hermione looked mortified. Harry knew how much she hated to be praised without cause. He gave her a pleading look, silently asking her to go with his pretence. Pressing her lips firmly together she just nodded.

“But the question remains, why Taurus Malfoy did it?” Ron said. “What’s in it for him, what’s to gain? He’s in no position to claim the family heritage even if Draco was out of the picture, right?”

“Well, actually, he might still have a chance,” Flitwick said to Harry’s surprise. “The Auror department has made some discreet inquiries and it turns out that Reekwith, Floolard & Partners –“

“That’s the law firm who represented most of the Death Eaters at the Wizengamot!” Harry exclaimed.

“ – exactly Mr Potter, the very one.” Flitwick nodded. “Apparently they are preparing a case to clear Taurus Malfoy and to remove his name from the Wanted-List. And if they get away with their claim, his chances of legal succession would be intact again.”

“But sureley not anymore! Now that we know about his involvement in the Imagic matter, he’s got no chance, right?” Harry asked.

“Certainly not, if we are able prove that Taurus Malfoy abducted Hogwarts’ Imagics,” Flitwick said, “which means we have all the more reason to clear this unpleasant affair. I’m afraid Ms Silver’s story is not enough, we still lack proof, as Imagics are not allowed to testify at the Wizengamot. Therefore it is crucial to find Taurus Malfoy.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Wait a minute… he’s in the country, right? Assigning a law firm, hexing the painting, conspiring with an accomplice – it all happened after the war. The Auror Department assumed him to be abroad all the time, but they must be wrong!”

“Correct again, Ms Granger,” Flitwick nodded.

“Don’t those legal advisers know where he hides? He’s their client, they must have a way to contact him, if necessary! Can’t we get them to talk?” Ron asked.

“That’s not so easy, Ron,” Hermione explained, “Clients’ confidentiality is legally protected. But surely the Auror Department – ”

“Yes, they are working on it, trying to get permission to crack the law firm.” said Flitwick.

Suddenly Harry’s stomach clenched. “Professor,” he said, “if Taurus Malfoy finds out that his attempt to frame Draco has failed and we are now on his tail – what’s he going to do then?“

“Who knows? I am most certainly no expert for criminal minds. Taurus Malfoy might take a flight abroad, this time for real. That would be the clever thing to do. Or he might be angry enough to do something stupid. Assuming he’s the one who attacked Professor Laddley – whether he wanted to get rid of an accomplice or for another reason – well, in that case he has crossed the line from malicious arts to real violence and he might attack again. I suppose you are concerned for Draco Malfoy’s safety, Mr Potter? Well, I’m afraid rightly so … he might be in danger, wherever he is hiding.”

Hermione gasped and stared at Harry. She looked terrified – which didn’t ease Harry’s mind one bit.

Suddenly a sharp knock at the door startled them all.

“Come in!” Flitwick cried.

The door opened and Healer O’Malley stepped into Flitwick’s office.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “I just wanted to let you know, that I’m leaving for St Mungo’s because Auror Shacklebolt and the Healers want to interview me. The Headmistress fire-called from the hospital and told me that I’m unbound from patient’s confidentiality concerning Professor Laddley.” He hesitated. “She asked me to talk to you all before I leave. Apparently she thinks, what I know might be relevant for whatever you are discussing presently?”

Harry realized that by focusing on the latest findings about the painting he had totally forgotten about Laddley’s condition.

“Very well, Healer O’Malley,” Flitwick said with an encouraging nod, “we are listening.”

O’Malley leaned against the door behind him. “I don’t know much anyway … it’s just … Gregory Laddley has been terribly guilt ridden and not only about his homophobic attack on a student. In our last session he hinted at being involved in some crime without giving me any details. We talked about the burden of guilt and what a relief it is to own up to what one has done. I believed him to be on the verge of confession.” He shook his head. “Too much of a coincidence that he broke down a few hours later.”

Flitwick nodded gravely. “I’m afraid you are right, Healer O’Malley.”

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, who both looked as worried as he felt – Laddley must indeed have been Taurus Malfoy’s accomplice and when he was about to come clear, Taurus Malfoy had tried to get rid of him. The question remained how they had managed to stay in contact?

“Sorry,” O’Malley added, “that’s about all I know, I’m afraid… I’m not even sure why they want to interview me at St. Mungo’s, but I’m afraid I have to leave right away, the Headauror was very outspoken about it.” He sighed and with a final nod he opened the door and left.

Harry stood up abruptly. “You get it, right? We finally know what has happened, but even if we catch Taurus Malfoy, he made sure we’ll have no witness to prove it! This drives me nuts! We can’t just wait until Laddley regains consciousness!”

“ _If_ he regains consciousness at all,” Flitwick added gravely, “don’t forget his condition is very serious, he might even die.”

“And what is more – without solid proof the Ministry won’t permit cracking the law firm, hence the A.D. might not be able to catch Taurus Malfoy,” Hermione added.

“What a vicious circle!” Harry ran his fingers through his hair. “We have to do something! We need to find a way to prove Taurus Malfoy is the culprit! There must be a way to nail this bastard before he does even more harm!”

He was terribly worried about Draco’s safety of course. Was it a good thing that Draco had gone into hiding? Maybe he was even safer in the Muggle world? But what if his malicious uncle found him at his refuge – Draco would be all alone, left to defend himself without anyone’s support! The thought alone made Harry feel sick.

“What about Laddley’s room?” Ron asked. “Why don’t we have a look at his stuff? Maybe he left some clue? By the way, where exactly are the Muggle Studies Master’s quarters?”

“He also lives at the Guest House, first floor,” Harry explained, “just above the pool.”

Flitwick looked unconvinced. “Well, his room was thoroughly searched at Halloween, the same as everybody else’s. I’m sure the Aurors would have spotted any significant evidence.”

“You think so, Professor? Well, I don’t.” Hermione said firmly. “I think they were just looking for paintings and Imagics, not for hidden potions or secret correspondence with an accomplice.”

“I see your point, Ms Granger.” Flitwick gave in and Harry marvelled at Hermione’s ability to challenge Flitwick’s opinion.

“So – what are we waiting for! Let’s search his room,” Ron got up too and went for the door, when again someone knocked to come in.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Flitwick cried startled, “come in!”

The door opened once more and this time two people entered.

“Mum!” Ron shouted. “Dad!”

“Yes, Ronald, we are your parents. No reason to scream like a madman.” Molly Weasley said to her son with raised eyebrows before she addressed Flitwick, “Good morning, Filius!”

“You even talk like a teacher already!” Ron groaned.

“Oh for the love of magic, come here!” Molly said before she wrapped Ron in a tight hug.

Arthur Weasley cleared his voice and turned towards the Deputy Headmaster.

“Hello, Filius! We’ve just arrived and Pomona told us, Minerva had to leave for London?”

“Molly, Arthur – so good to see you!” Flitwick blinked rapidly. “Yes, I’m afraid so, the Headmistress has urgent business to attaned to, no delay possible. So good to see you!” he repeated.

Molly let go of Ron and gave both Harry and Hermione a quick kiss on the cheek. “And why are the kids in your office on a Sunday morning, Filius? What’s going on? I hope they are not in trouble?”

“No, no – not to worry!” Flitwick said, “Quite the contrary, they are helping to solve some… some mystery. I’m very glad you are here, Molly, and you as well Arthur, very glad indeed.”

“Well of course I had to accompany my wife to her new place of work,” Arthur smiled at Molly, “I’m ever so proud of her.”

Flitwick rubbed his hands. “Excellent, excellent... the Headmistress left quite a long list of things she wanted me to tell you, Molly, to prepare you for your new position. And in fact I need some things to discuss with you too, Arthur. We better get started.”

He turned to Harry and his friends. “I have to brief Professor Weasley now, so I must ask you to leave. Looks like we can’t do much about our… our problem anyway at the moment.“

Harry groaned silently. He was determined to do something, anything to continue this investigation. They needed to find Taurus Malfoy or Draco’s safety was at stake!

“Professor, how about we –“ he gestured at Hermione and Ron, “search Laddley’s room, while you fill in Molly and Arthur?” he asked.

Flitwick gave Harry a stern look. “Mr Potter! You are definitely not permitted to search _Professor_ Laddley’s room without me being present! You will have to wait until I have talked to _Professor_ Weasley – do you understand?”

Harry nodded reluctantly.

“What is this? Search Professor Laddley’s room?” Arthur Weasley looked intrigued.

“I’ll explain in a minute, Arthur, as soon as the students have left us,” Flitwick said pointing at the door.

“Why don’t you all wait at the Gryffindor common room for us, together with Ginny and her new friend? And we will see you there as soon as we are done?” said Molly Weasley. “I want to talk to my kids in private before I am officially introduced to all the students – and when I say ‘my kids’ that includes you too, Harry!”

Harry blushed. Molly Weasley had become most certainly his surrogate mother since their first encounter, years ago at Kingscross station. And as much as he loved her, he was not looking forward to one of her lengthy lectures today.

***

Harry stared at his left leg, as if it was no longer a part of his body. His leg was caught in a nervous tremor, rocking the little table in front of the fire-place. No wonder. He was anything but content with being stuck at Gryffindor Tower, waiting for Molly and Arthur to join them.

Ginny and Ron whispered frantically to each other. They did not dare to complain openly about their mother’s presence at school any more, having been told off by Harry and Hermione the day before. But they still looked lamenting.

Cass on the other hand was clearly very nervous to meet the ‘in-laws’ and biting her fingernails. Hermione had tried to ease Cass’ tension by sharing her own experience with the Weasleys but eventually fell quiet as Cass hardly listened to her. All the other Gryffindor students kept their distance, as if Harry’s group was giving off negative vibes.

“Stop it,” Hermione finally hissed and laid her hand on Harry’s rocking leg.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at her.

“Ok, that’s it,” she said rising from her chair, “come with me.” She gave him that no-nonsense look he knew so well and walked away to stand in front of a window. Harry sighed again and got up too.

Looking out over the frozen grounds Hermione rested her hands on the windowsill. Harry stood next to her following her gaze. Although late in the morning, even close to noon, it was still gloomy outside, the sun well-hidden behind thick clouds and the sky grey like lead. All in all the weather fit Harry’s mood perfectly.

“Harry, I know you are worried about Draco, and rightly so.” Hermione said and he was surprised about how soft and compassionate her voice was. “If we are stuck here to wait for Molly and Arthur, we can as well use this time to talk about the investigation. Let Ron and Ginny stay in their preferred drama of having their mother for a teacher if they must – they will come around soon enough. Tell me what’s on your mind, ok?”

“Hermione – just… thanks.” Harry exhaled deeply. “It’s all those loose ends, I guess? We have so many different lines of enquiry… plus Draco has been gone for more than a week now and I’m just worried sick that this lunatic of an uncle might find him before… before I can do anything to keep him safe.”

Hermione looked at Harry with determination. “Right. Let’s take stock, ok? On the plus side – we have three Imagics back. We know that Taurus Malfoy is the main perpetrator, we know about his means and motive. Laddley was probably his accomplice but has been knocked off before he could own up to it.”

Harry took over, “On the down side – Dumbledore’s Imagic is still missing. We have no idea where Taurus Malfoy is hiding and even if we catch him, we’ll have no witness to nail him at court. Laddley – who could probably explain everything – is fighting for his life.”

“Okay,” Hermione said, “that’s the summary of where we are. Now let’s focus on priorities.” She gave him a questioning look.

“Top priority – keeping Draco safe.” Harry said without hesitation. “Which is easier said than done. He’s willing to come back as soon as I let him know, he’ll trust my judgement of the situation. But… maybe he is safer at his hiding place? Or would he be better off here at school? What shall I tell him?” Harry had not shared anything about their secret communication before, but he really needed Hermione’s opinion on this. _Fuck secrecy,_ he thought, _I don’t want to make this decision alone._

She did not look surprised, not one bit. “I always suspected you to know where he is.”

“Well, I don’t. But Otto does.”

“Oh, I see, _Secretos_ ,” Hermione beamed at him. “Very clever! Malfoy owls are a special breed famous for secret messaging – I should have thought of that. Of course it must have been Draco’s idea to give you one of their owls last summer. Looks like he really was courting you even before you knew it.”

Harry groaned.

“Don’t be like that, Harry, it’s actually kind of sweet. People will languish at your love story for ages as soon as this gets out!”

“What if I don’t want everybody and their brother to know about it? I’m telling you, because you’re my friend! I most certainly don’t want the whole witcharding world to drool over my love life!"

Hermione chuckled. "Oh, I assume even the Muggle world will love it!"

Harry groaned some more. "Just... stop it. Anyway – first things first, what do I tell Draco?”

“Honestly, I think he would be safer here at school. You can tell him to return as soon as any suspicions about him being involved are dropped. Therefore we need to prove he was indeed framed by his uncle and whoever was his accomplice in this – most likely Laddley.”

“But how do we do that without going through Laddley’s stuff? I was so hoping to find a bottle of Draco-shaping Polyjuice hidden somewhere in his room – that would have been all the proof we need.”

“And it might still happen. I’ll remind Flitwick that he agreed to it. Plus the Aurors will search his room soon enough, I’m sure of it. But… ” Suddenly Hermione drew a sharp breath. “Oh! What if… maybe we don’t have to enter his room… maybe we just need to talk to someone who can!”

“House-elves!” Harry gasped. “Brilliant! Have I ever told you how superbly clever you are, Hermione?”

She grinned. “Not nearly often enough. Go on.”

He planted a kiss on her cheek and said. “You. Are. The. Best.”

Hermione giggled.

“Oi! What’s going on?” Ron shouted from his place at the fire-side.

“Nothing to concern you.” Hermione said back in her dead-pan way. “Keep moaning.” 

Harry laughed and called Kreacher.

The House-elf appeared with the usual crack and bowed deeply. “Kreacher at your service! How can Kreacher please Master Harry Potter Sir?”

Now most heads in the common room had turned towards them and several students pointed and whispered.

“Thank’s Kreacher, for seeing me. I think we’ll better talk outside… just follow me, please.” Harry looked at Hermione. “Shall we?”

“Hey, you can’t leave!” Ron shouted. “Mom will freak out, if you’re gone!”

“We’re not leaving, just waiting for your parents in the corridor outside,” Hermione said. “We’ll prepare them for their drama queens of kids.”

They climbed through the portrait hole and stepped down the staircase, away from the Fat Lady who looked far too curious for Harry’s taste.

“Listen, Kreacher,” Harry said at the foot of the stairs, “a few weeks ago I’ve asked you about unusual sightings of Imagics and you mentioned that those House-elves, who do the room service, might know – remember?”

“Of course, Master Harry Potter Sir,” Kreacher looked mortified, “and Kreacher is so very sorry that he did not find out anything useful! Kreacher asked all the Maiden-elves – that’s what we call them. But none of them had seen any Imagic in a place where it’s not supposed to be! Otherwise Kreacher would have told Master immediately! Kreacher begs Master to forgive him!” The House-elf budged closer to the nearest wall and motioned as if he needed to bang his head against it any moment now.

Harry moved quickly between Elf and wall. “No need to apologise, Kreacher. You have done very well! I am sure you would have told me anything worthwhile. I trust you, Kreacher.”

The House-elf fell down on his knees wailing. “Master is too kind! Master is the kindest! Kreacher does not deserve to serve Master Harry Potter Sir!”

Harry looked at Hermione and sighed.

“Will you just… calm down, Kreacher, alright?” Harry even patted the House-elf lightly on the shoulder.

“Yes, of course, Master Harry Potter Sir,” and with a few final sobs the Elf pulled himself upright again.

“The thing is, Kreacher…” Harry hesitated – should he tell Kreacher what he needed to know? Or maybe… “I would like to talk to those Maiden-elves myself, if possible? I have a few questions they might be able to answer. Could you fetch them for me and –“ he turned around searching the corridor, yes, there still was this large fancy alcove next to the stairs. He had hidden in this place several times. “We’ll wait for you over there, right?” 

Kreachers eyes were even bigger than usual. “Of course, Master Harry Potter Sir! Kreacher will fetch all them Maiden-elves. But… but that place will be very crowded. Kreacher is afraid it will not be comfortable for Master and Master's good friend,” he took a bow to Hermione, “with seventeen House-elves.”

“Seventeen?” Harry looked abhorred. He most certainly did not want to interview seventeen House-elves, not even in a big enough room – which this alcove most certainly was not.

“That won’t be necessary, Kreacher,” Hermione said, “Harry just needs to talk to those House-elves who clean the bed-rooms of the guest house. Not that many, I guess?”

Kreacher looked relieved – and so did Harry.

“That would only be Millie and Floppy,” Kreacher nodded eagerly. “Kreacher will fetch them in an instant!” And with a final crack he was gone.

Harry and Hermione hardly had time to squeeze into the alcove, which was partly hidden by a larger than life suit of armour, when Kreacher reappeared in the company of two other House-elves with a triple ‘Crack!’.

“Bow down, Millie and Floppy, bow down!” Kreacher shouted shoving the other House-elves’ heads to the floor. “For this is Master Harry Potter who has saved us all! Master Harry Potter wants to talk to you although none of you deserves this! Master Harry Potter is the most–”

“That’s enough, Kreacher,” Harry interrupted. “Thank you!” Then he addressed the other House-elves. “And thank you so much for coming! I completely understand you have no obligation to talk to me.” He was well aware that they were bound to the school and not to him, like Kreacher was.

Both House-elves gawped at Harry wide-eyed. They were most certainly not used to being addressed by a wizard at all, let alone by famous Harry Potter!

“Right.” Harry looked pleadingly at Hermione, hoping she would come to his rescue before he messed up this chance.

“Harry asks you to tell him… tell us, about Professor Laddley’s room.” Hermione said. “Was there anything unusual about it? Maybe an item Professor Laddley hid or stored in an unusual place? A bottle of potions for example?”

One of the House-elves, wearing nothing but a tea-towel with pink polka-dots, looked from Hermione to Harry. Obviously she was the more daring one. “Millie never saw anything unusual at Master Professor Laddley’s room, Master Harry Potter Sir. He is a very tidy person, Master Laddley is.” Millie said with a trembling voice. “He always stored everything in its proper place. Bottles only in his bath room, like shampoo and such.”

Finally the other House-elf also dared to raise her head. “Floppy never saw anything unusual at Master Professor Laddley’s room either.” She whispered. She looked very fragile, even for an elf, and one of her eyes was significantly larger than the other. “Master Professor Laddley was always very kind, when he saws us. Never was annoyed when we comes to clean.”

Hermione snorted. “Don’t tell me other Professors are _annoyed_ when you come to clean their rooms?”

The House-elves cringed and kept quiet. Harry exchanged a frustrated glance with Hermione.

“Talk to Master Harry Potter, you ungrateful Elves!” Kreacher gnarled.

“Shush, Kreacher, I am sure they will tell me everything they know!”

“He keeps a picture at his bedside locker,” Floppy said under her breath. “A picture that is not moving.”

 _Laddley keeps a Muggle picture close to his bed? Interesting,_ Harry thought and asked, “Ok, what does it show?”

“A family,” Floppy whispered barely audible. “Mother, father and two boys. It is old, the picture. Floppy thinks Master Professor Laddley himself is the elder brother.”

“He’s a half-blood, his father was a Muggle, so it makes sense that his parents got their picture taken the Muggle way,” Hermione nodded.

“That is very observant of you, Floppy,” Harry felt the need to compliment this desperate being in front of him, when suddenly an idea hit him. “Do you like to look at pictures, Floppy?”

Floppy nodded. “It is the best part of cleaning bedrooms, Master Harry Potter Sir! To look at the pictures wizards and witches keep in their rooms. Especially pictures on their bedside lockers.” She paused for a moment. “Many many bedside tables with pictures of Master Harry Potter, and not just at the guest-house…”

Hermione grinned and Harry flushed. He most certainly did not want to dig into this. “Right. What about Draco Malfoy’s room?“

“Master Draco Malfoy also keeps Master Harry Potter’s picture at his bedside –“

“That’s not what I meant,” Harry interrupted ignoring Hermione’s glee about that information, “I wanted to ask you about the painting that was above his bed for a while, the naked lady, you know?”

Floppy nodded and so did Millie.

“When did you first spot it? And for how long did Draco keep it on the wall when he moved in?”

Hermione gasped. “Oh Harry! This is it! We’ve got witnesses!”


	36. Draco, Disencumbered

> _Sunday 8 th of November 1998, early evening_
> 
> _Dear Draco!_
> 
> _Finally!!! Finally the investigation has made some progress! You have no idea what a relief it is to write tonight. To put it briefly – you can come back! (I am grinning so hard it makes my cheeks hurt!)_
> 
> _I’m not going to explain what exactly has happened. That would take hours and I want to send Otto on his way as soon as possible. Just know this: You are cleared from any suspicions. The A.D. believes you to be innocent of abducting Imagics. They still want to talk to you because your family is involved and you might (without being aware of it) know something useful for the investigation. But you will not be held responsible or (my greatest fear) imprisoned. Seems like your beloved uncle, Taurus M. is the main perp and that he tried to frame you. I’ll explain in detail as soon as we see each other again. (I'm grinning some more.)_
> 
> _But the A.D. has not yet been able to catch that bastard of an uncle. That is why I must ask you (I beg you!) NOT to come back on your own!!! We have no idea where uncle T. is hiding. Or what’s he going to do when he finds out that the A.D. did not buy his scam. That they are on his heels, not yours. He might try to take a flight or he might wait for you and attack you._
> 
> _So: DON’T LEAVE YOUR PRESENT HIDING PLACE!!! Instead send back Otto with the address of your refuge and a security team of Aurors will fetch you there._
> 
> _That is all for now. I just fed Otto an extra treat of dried mouse to brace him for the flight. If all goes according to plan, he will be back with your address in the morning and the Aurors will pick you up soon afterwards. Meaning we will see each other in less than 24 hours!!! (Blimey, my cheeks really hurt from all that grinning.)_
> 
> _Lots of love, Harry xxx_

Harry secured the letter to Otto’s leg and the owl sailed gracefully through the open window hooting softly. Harry’s eyes followed Otto as long as he could see the owl’s white feathers in the darkness. Then he sighed and closed the window. This day had been intense.

First the unexpected discovery of two most reliable witnesses. To Harry’s delight House-elves were not only allowed to testify in front of the Wizengamot, but their testimony was in fact very much respected as they were totally unable to lie. Millie and Floppy both stated in perfect unison that the trap painting had appeared on the very same day as the first-year students – which had been Tuesday, the first of September.

When the House-elves repeated their statement in front of Flitwick, the deputy Headmaster immediately contacted Kingsley Shacklebolt. After a quick consultation with the probation office it was confirmed, that Draco’s whereabouts for the first of September was well recorded for. Josh Jordan and another Auror had been at Philomella Black’s house in Edinburgh for most of that day preparing Draco’s and Cass’ transfer to the Manor. On that occasion Josh had once again seen the nasty side-effects of the tracking spell on Draco’s health.

So without doubt someone – probably Gregory Laddley – had impersonated Draco on that very same day by using Polyjuice potion. At least Laddley had the opportunity to do so, as he had arrived at Hogwarts one week before. Why exactly he – or whoever had done it - had used Polyjuice for hanging the painting in Draco’s room, they could only guess.

Harry thought, Sylvia Silver’s Imagic was meant to see ‘Draco’ in case she should talk after all. Luckily enough neither Taurus Malfoy nor his accomplice had been aware of the House-elves observant demeanour. Harry wanted to smack himself for being nearly as ignorant as them. Why the fuck had it taken him so long to interview the room-service elves?

But Floppy’s and Millie’s report had not been the only news of the day. When Molly and Arthur finally appeared at Gryffindor Tower, the Weasley siblings were in for another surprise. Not only would their mother be teaching D.A.D.A., but their father had agreed to step in for Laddley and to take over Muggle Studies for the time being. When they told their kids that Flitwick had asked Arthur to stay at school as well, at least temporarily, it was one of the very rare moments when both Ron and Ginny gawped speechlessly at their parents.

At lunchtime both Professors Weasley were officially introduced to the students. Many kids stared at their son and daughter on that occasion. Some of the younger kids, who were still home-sick, might envy Ginny and Ron, but most of the students obviously pitied them.

In the afternoon McGonagall and Shacklebolt returned from London and immediately called for another meeting. This time Molly and Arthur also took part in it. Harry was immensely relieved to hear that Laddley had turned the corner. The Muggles Studies teacher was still unconscious but the Healers were convinced he would survive and be well again. In the course of the meeting Harry managed to gain Kingsley Shacklebolt’s assurance, that the A.D. would no longer treat Draco as a suspect, when he returned and that they would secure Draco’s journey back to school. Back at his room after dinner Harry had written his letter to Draco, impatiently waiting for Otto to wake up.

Now that the owl was finally on his way, Harry paced the room. It was way too early for going to bed and he was restless. Maybe he should go down to the pool and swim some laps? That would at least tire his body, if not his wound up mind.

A soft knocking at his door interrupted his thoughts. Harry opened the door.

“Oh,” he stared at his surrogate mother. “Hi Molly… you want to come in?”

“Yes, dear,” Molly Weasley said, “I’d like to have a word in private, if you could spare me a minute?”

“Of course!”

Molly set down on Harry’s sofa and looked around his room. Harry nervously took a seat on his bed and watched her. She seemed calm enough, but Harry had the distinct feeling he knew what was coming.

To delay the inevitable he asked, “You want some tea, Molly? I’ll fetch some from our common room, if you like?”

“No, thanks, Harry, I’m fine.” Molly said and, although she smiled at him, her eyes were concerned, “So… you and Draco Malfoy?”

Harry sighed. Yes, he had guessed correctly. “Listen, Molly, I know you mean well but Draco is a much better person than we all believed him to be! Ron and Hermione think so as well and – “

“Harry!” Molly tried to interrupt.

But Harry went on, “No, I won’t let you blame him! I am well aware that I used to rant and rave about him, but… all the trouble we gave each other in previous years – that was as much my doing as his! And about his past as a Death Eater, I believe – I _know_ that he immensely regrets that and honestly tries to do better now! And you can’t blame him for me being gay either, he did not seduce me, in fact, he didn’t even want us to be together in the first place! It took quite an effort to persuade him!” He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at her.

“Are you done, dear?” Molly seemed highly amused by his outburst and the smile she gave him now was genuine.

“Yes,” said Harry feeling suddenly deflated.

“Good. Because you don’t have to convince me, Harry, I totally believe what you say.”

“You do?”

Molly sighed. “Of course, love. First of all – I really trust your judgement. If you think Draco Malfoy has a good heart, I’m sure he has. For those terribly bad decisions he has made, while still half a child, I hold his parents far more responsible than him. In fact, I am very much looking forward to getting to know this young man who has won your heart.”

“Oh… thanks,” Harry managed to say. He suddenly had a lump in his throat.

“And, Harry, you don’t seriously think, I would want to _blame_ anybody for your sexual orientation? Why would I? There is nothing – absolutely nothing wrong with being gay! It’s nothing to be ashamed of, nothing out of the ordinary – it just happens to be rarer than being straight.”

Harry was lost for words.

“I have to admit, I felt different when Charlie told us, but I’ve learned a thing or two since then, hopefully. I did some reading, talked to a few people and, most importantly, seeing Charlie so much more content after he came out– that made all the difference to me.”

She smiled warmly at him. “Frankly my dear, I wasn’t even totally surprised about you.”

“What?” Harry gawped at her. “I mean, I’ve heard that several times now, but from you… I thought you were so happy when Ginny and I were together?”

“I was, Harry. The idea of having you as a son-in-law, officially a member of our family was wonderful. But… you _are_ a member of our crazy bunch anyway, right? No, what got me thinking was the way you and Ginny behaved. You seemed such good friends but… there wasn’t much passion going on, right? Don’t get me wrong, I think it is very important to be good friends with one’s partner, but such a young couple should be more than that – and you were not, right?”

Harry nodded. How observant this woman was!

“Now that I have met Cassy, I finally understand the connection between you and Ginny – obviously you’ve got the same taste!” She winked at him. “Seriously, the two of you reminded me of a pair of schoolmates from my days at Hogwarts. They were very good friends and everybody agreed they made a nice couple, they even got married! But when they were in their mid-twenties they got a divorce and both of them came out.”

“But… you never said anything?”

“Of course not, Harry! That would have been most intrusive, don’t you think? No, I was waiting for you to tell me in good time.” Now she looked concerned again. “And that is why I wanted to talk to you. Why didn’t you tell us? We only found out when Ginny wrote that letter and told us about Cassy… I had thought… Arthur and I had hoped, you would trust us.”

“But I do trust you and Arthur!” Harry protested.

“Really, Harry, do you?” Molly looked unconvinced. “Remember what you said to me just minutes ago, how you felt you needed to defend yourself? That did not sound like trust to me.” She sighed.

“I am sorry, Molly.” Harry said softly. “You are probably right. I was… afraid, I guess? I never presumed you might have a problem with homosexuality, not when you’re Charlie’s parents! But… I feared you would be prejudiced against Draco. Hell, why wouldn’t you? When I myself complained about him and told everybody how much I hated him forever!”

“Which you always did with suspicious intensity,” Molly smiled again.

“Yes,” Harry grinned back, “I guess I did, although I would probably have stunned anybody daring to suggest as much.”

Molly smiled and nodded. She held Harry’s gaze for long seconds.

“Come here, Harry,” she finally said patting the cushion next to her on the sofa.

And Harry did. He sat down at her side and soon found himself wrapped in a warm hug. Molly’s soft body felt comfortably familiar, just like her scent of rose-water with a hint of cinnamon.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her sweet-smelling hair, “I’m such an idiot. I truly am.”

Molly held him for a minute, until Harry relaxed and the tension in his body disappeared. Finally she removed her arms and looked pleased again.

“Well, now we’ve established the fact that sometimes you’re an idiot, just like everybody else. Good. And like everybody else, Harry, you have a family. And that’s us, the Weasleys. So you better let us take part in your life, whatever is going on, promise?”

“Promise,” Harry repeated.

“So that’s settled. From tomorrow on I’ll be your teacher and we will have to see how that works out, with half of my kids in the classroom. But tell you what –“

A rattling sound from the window made them both turn their gaze and Harry gasped at the sight of Otto. Why was the owl back so soon?

He quickly opened the window to let his pet inside. Otto took a seat at the back of his preferred chair and hooted in a moaning way. His feathers were ruffled and his left wing was bent in a strange angle.

“Oh no, he’s hurt!” Harry shouted and removed the letter from the owl’s leg – yes, it was still his own writing. Otto stretched out his other leg towards Harry and hooted some more.

Harry’s stomach dropped. Both his and Draco’s hair were gone.

Their secret connection was broken.


	37. Secretos

After Otto’s return Harry and Molly immediately alerted all the investigators and they conferred about how to proceed. Meanwhile Madame Pomfrey mended Otto’s broken wing. She praised the bird for returning in spite of his injury and even let the owl stay at the hospital wing, promising to nurse him. Hagrid complained that it was his duty as a caretaker to watch over injured animals but everybody agreed that Hagrid’s hut was not safe enough for the owl seeing that the attack must have taken place somewhere close to Hogwarts. Whoever had assaulted Otto must have lurked in the neighbourhood of the school as the owl had returned to Harry’s room within half an hour. All night long search parties of Aurors combed through the grounds to find some evidence of what had happened but to no avail. 

Nobody mentioned the obvious, at least not within Harry’s earshot: Taurus Malfoy must have kept nearby. Thanks to the secret binding between Harry and Draco, Taurus had not been able to follow Otto or to remove the letter. Still he must have tried and in the course of it he had hurt the owl and broken the secret connection.

Now Otto was incapacitated for days and Harry had no means of contacting Draco. In the absence of Otto, what would Draco do? Would he think Harry had abandoned him when no more letters arrived? Would he try to contact Harry? Or return on his own? Would he turn up right within Taurus Malfoy’s grasp? Harry was frightfully aware of that possibility. Thoughts like these kept him awake for hours at nighttime.

For the next few days Harry’s attention was torn between school and worry. The Headmistress still insisted on Harry’s presence during lessons but kept him informed of any progress in the investigations. Not that there was much progress. Taurus Malfoy was supposedly still on the run, Laddley still unconscious. McGonagall had once again asked Harry, Blaise and Tommy to take care of the swimming lessons, which was at least something Harry enjoyed. Focusing on the needs of younger students gave Harry some hours free of worries.

The only other pleasant change was having Molly and Arthur at school. To Harry’s delight Molly Weasley turned out to be a natural teacher. Not that he was very surprised, he had expected as much. But after her first lesson everybody agreed, that she was at least as good as Josh Jordon. She had lots of interesting stories to tell from her time in the Order of the Phoenix and she let her students practice just like Josh had done. Plus she was even better than Josh at explaining the theory of Defence, which was really important for N.E.W.T.s.

“You’re one lucky bastard, Ron,” Seamus said after Molly’s second lesson, “your mum’s so cool!”

“She actually reminds me a bit of gran,” said Neville, “she’s just less scary.”

“Well, well – I can finally see why you’re attracted to women of superior intelligence, Weasley,” Blaise Zabini slapped Ron’s shoulder.

“Which must be familiar to you, Zabini – seeing that practically every woman is more intelligent than you are,” Hermione said rolling her eyes.

Everybody laughed, even Blaise.

Ron seemed only a little bit embarrassed, but mostly delighted by his friend’s praise of his mother. “I have to admit the old girl is doing quite well.” He turned to Harry. “I guess, we can swap seats again next lesson.” He had asked Harry to switch places during D.A.D.A. lessons and Harry had gladly agreed. Sitting next to Hermione up front was far better than the constant reminder of Draco’s absence by staring at the empty chair next to Blaise.

Hermione glared at her boyfriend. “Oh, so now you want to switch back? But maybe Harry wants to stay? Maybe I want him to stay?”

“What?” Ron looked taken aback. “But… why would you?”

“Because you’re an idiot, Ron.” Hermione snorted. “Do you really need some other idiot’s approval – “ she pointed at Blaise “ – for not feeling embarrassed by your own mother?”

“Sorry, pal, but she’s right,” Harry agreed, “I told you so before – you should be damn proud of your mum. So I guess I’ll keep my seat for the time being.”

Ron protested lamely but still looked rather pleased.

 _So he really is proud of Molly after all,_ Harry concluded.

***

Early on Thursday morning Harry lay in bed after another restless night. He felt worn out and distressed. Was this nightmare ever going to end? He sighed deeply. Tea, he desperately needed some tea.

Harry entered the common room to put the kettle on – and was surprised by Ron and Hermione, clearly waiting for him, both still wearing pyjamas and night robes.

“Good morning, Harry!” Hermione said handing him a mug of tea.

“Why are you up already?” Harry asked astounded.

“To keep you company, of course! Ron only told me yesterday evening about your early morning routine… we would have been here every morning, if I had known before!” She shot her boyfriend an annoyed look. “How was your night? Did you find some sleep?”

“Thanks,” Harry murmured. The tea smelled nice enough but early morning tea without Draco, or at least his daily morning letter from Draco, was not the same. “Sleep is much overrated, I guess?” He grinned at his friends.

Hermione looked concerned. “You realize that Taurus Malfoy made a mistake when he tried to get a hold of Otto, right? He will eventually give himself away. The Aurors are searching every inch of the surroundings and will catch him in the end. Draco just has to stay where he is until they succeed. He is clever enough to stay put at his refuge unless he is told otherwise, I am sure of it.”

“Yeah, man,” Ron said with a hoarse voice and blotched eyes. Harry was well aware that his best pal was anything but a morning person and that Ron would still be in bed, fast asleep, if he didn’t think Harry was in need of company. He was oddly touched and cleared his voice.

A sudden bark from the painting of Wizards’ Woods made them turn their heads. A man and a woman were walking under bare trees, both dressed in formal black robes, and a black poodle was chasing them between the tree trunks.

Harry hardly believed his eyes. This was undoubtedly Sylvia Silver, the formerly naked lady, walking at Severus Snape’s side.

“Good morning,” Snape’s Imagic said, “We’ve heard about the latest developments, Mr Potter and wanted to see how you are coping. Ms Granger, Mr Weasley – good of you to take care of your friend.”

Hermione and Ron seemed as perplexed as Harry himself, they barely managed to reply their ‘Good mornings’.

After a moment of awkward silence Ron blurted, “Blimey, you’ve got yourself an awfully nice companion, Professor!”

Harry was baffled to watch both Imagics blush.

“Ms Silver is kind enough to tolerate my company while walking her dog,” Snape said with a little bow to the lady at his side. “I just try to show her around, take her to nice landscapes. She is not yet familiar with Hogwarts’ artwork.”

“Good morning, Ms Silver,” Hermione addressed the female Imagic. “Nice robes you are wearing! I take it both Mrs Malfoy and the Ministry gave their consent for your clothes?” Hermione asked.

“Thank you, Ms Granger… about my request – well, I don’t know yet,” Sylvia Silvers Imagic whispered nearly inaudibly.

Snape jumped in. “Filius did not dare to touch her painting without permission but he provided some clothes for Ms Silver in an extra frame. She just had to get dressed there.”

“But I still hope Professor Flitwick gets the necessary permission from Ms Malfoy,” Sylvia said, “for getting some proper clothes and also for staying permanently at Hogwarts. Professor Flitwick and the Headmistress promised to keep me on display and that’s so much better than existing in storage. Also I would like very much to stay for Pippin’s sake of course. He has taken such a liking to Headmaster Snape.” She blushed again and glanced at Snape with adoring eyes.

 _Looks like the dog is not the only one who has taken a liking to Severus Snape,_ Harry thought astounded.

“So you are expecting a letter from Ms Malfoy?” Hermione asked.

“No, she is coming to Hogwarts in person,” said Snape’s Imagic. “The Aurors want her removed from the Manor in case Taurus Malfoy makes an appearance there. And the Headmistress suggested her transfer to the castle. Maybe she can help to contact her son or even locate his present residence.”

“But what if –” an alarming thought hit Harry, “– what if Draco turns up at the Manor while she’s gone and his crazy uncle awaits him there instead?”

“Be assured that Malfoy Manor will be watched very closely, Mr Potter,” Snape said. “The Aurors actually hope that Taurus Malfoy turns up at his former home as soon as he finds out that his sister-in-law is absent. That’s the main reason why she will be staying at Hogwarts. It’s a trap. Auror Shacklebolt reckons, if Taurus Malfoy is indeed watching the school, he’ll find out about Mrs Malfoy’s presence. He might be tempted to take advantage of the empty Manor and try to lay his hands on some of the artwork.”

Harry nodded. “I see… so, Narcissa Malfoy… when will she arrive?” He felt slightly alarmed at the prospect of meeting Draco’s mother again. _Does she know about us? Does she approve of me? Or is she disappointed by Draco’s choice?_ _Maybe she even blames me for his troubles?_ Harry gulped.

“She’s expected to arrive at noon,” said Severus Snape’s Imagic. “For now I assume you have to get going, seeing you are still in your nightwear?”

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione cast a quick _Tempus_ and gasped. “It’s awfully late! We really need to hurry, if we still want to have some breakfast before our first lesson today! Which is D.A.D.A, Ron! Good bye, Professor, good bye Ms Silver – I hope your request will be granted!” And she shoved both Harry and Ron towards the door.

“I’d rather skip mum’s lesson than breakfast,” Ron grumbled.

***

The morning went by in a blur. Harry was so sleep deprived after several nights of worrying that he found it increasingly hard to be attantive during lessons. Stepping into the great hall for lunch, he felt rather nervous. Would Narcissa Malfoy already be there? Would she sit with the teachers like visitors usually did? He found his place and stared at the staff table.

“If you’re trying to spot Narcissa Malfoy, you can stop looking,” Ginny said falling into her seat. “She’s having lunch at her own room and Cass is keeping her company.”

“So you’ve met her already?” 

“No,” Ginny sighed. “Josh Jordan fetched Cassy right after our last lesson to guide her towards her aunt’s room. She’s staying at the guest house by the way.”

“Josh is back?”

“Yep. Apparently he’s on duty again as her probation officer, but obviously not teaching any more. Mum’s taken that position for good.” Ginny pulled a face. She was even more reluctant to accept Molly’s new job than Ron.

“Seriously, Ginny – “ Hermione started to say but was interrupted by Ginny.

“Alright, alright, mum’s a star. I just wish she would have started to shine _after_ my N.E.W.T.s”

Harry sighed, hardly listening to Ginny’s and Hermione’s arguing any more. They had been through this discussion during every meal all week. He zoomed out. His thoughts travelled to Draco as they so often did.

This was the fourth day without a message from Draco, which was probably a good thing. Hopefully Draco just laid low until he got an all clear. But what if Draco had already left his refuge and fallen into Taurus Malfoy’s hands? Would they even know about it? Or would it be like this forever – Draco gone without a trace? Harry managed to gulp down a few bites before he pushed his plate away.

Just when a sweet-smelling apple pie appeared at their table for pudding, Josh Jordan entered the hall. No longer wearing teachers’ robes but dressed in brown again, the young Auror headed right for their table. Harry had a distinct feeling he knew what was coming.

“Hullo everyone!” Josh nodded at Harry’s friends, before addressing him. “Good to see you again, Harry! You’ve probably heard that Mrs Malfoy has arrived at Hogwarts under my watch? Well, she’s asked to meet you – if you don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” Harry said, “but – right now? I mean… we’ve got Potions in about half an hour. Or shall I come afterwards?”

“How about I inform Professor Slughorn that you might be a little late?” said Josh turning towards the staff table. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

“Right,” Harry said with a pounding heart.

“You’re truly fucked, mate,” Ron said with much compassion, “missing pudding for a meeting with your mother-in-law.”

“I wanted to thank you, Harry,” Josh said a few minutes later, as they were walking towards the guest house, “I truly owe you for encouraging me to talk to Kingsley about my Polyjuice theory. Crazy idea, going behind his back! I don’t know what I was thinking! If it were not for you, I might have lost my job altogether, not just the position at Hogwarts.” He shook his head. “He gave you the same speech, I guess? About team work and Aurors having to trust each other?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “and of course, he’s right. I would never have survived the last few years without support.”

“Me neither. Did I tell you, that Tonks literally saved my life two years ago, when we were trapped by some Death Eaters? I miss her a lot, Tonks, you know. She was one of my best friends.” Josh’s voice was hoarse. “That witch made me laugh like no one else. She even asked me to be her ‘ _bride’s maid’_ , can you believe it? Made me wear peach robes for her wedding!” Josh shook his head with something in between a laugh and a sob.

Harry nodded. “I might not have known her as well but I still miss her… and many others.”

“Yeah… if we had not fought together, if we had not supported each other – the war might well have been lost.” Josh shuddered. “I don’t even want to imagine a world like that.” He opened the door to the guest house for Harry. “Up you go, Harry… Ms Malfoy and I, we’re both staying at the first floor.”

It turned out that Narcissa Malfoy and her probation officer had been put into door-to-door guestrooms. When Harry and Josh entered her room, they found Narcissa Malfoy sitting on a sofa, one arm around Cass’ shoulder.

Mrs Malfoy nodded at Harry.

“It’ll be alright, my dear,” she said softly, stroking her niece’s hair. Cass was sobbing quietly.

Harry gulped. Seeing Cass so distressed, he felt his own anxiety rising. On the other hand, how could Draco’s mother be so… detached?

Cass pulled away from her aunt. She snuffled and said, “Hi, Harry… I guess I’ve got to go now.” She nodded at Josh and stood up.

“I’ll see you again in the evening, dear,” said Narcissa Malfoy, “Try to focus on your lessons for now, will you?” She smiled at Cass before turning towards Harry.

“Thank you so much for seeing me, Mr Potter,” she said with a perfectly calm voice, “will you please sit down?”

Only when she gestured at a chair next to the sofa, Harry saw that her fingers were trembling.

“Thank you, Mrs Malfoy,” Harry nodded, heart pounding and took a seat.

“Right,” said Josh. “I’ll leave you to it… I’ll be at my room next door, if you need me?”

Harry stared at the little table in front of him. Apple pie. Of course Narcissa Malfoy had been served the same dishes as the rest of the school. He heard the door clicking shut but kept staring at the cake.

“Would you like a piece of pie, Mr Potter?” Narcissa Malfoy asked.

“Sorry!” Harry raised his eyes. “No! No, thank you. I was just… ” He bit his lips.

“Only two months have passed since we last spoke to each other, Mr Potter, but it feels much longer… who would have thought…” Narcissa Malfoy sighed. “I know that these days must be very difficult for you… as they are for Cassy and for myself.” Her voice was trembling now and Harry was oddly reassured by it. She was a human being with feelings after all.

“Yes,” he said, “I’m just… worried, I guess. You know that I’ve been in contact with Draco until Sunday? That Otto was attacked?”

She nodded. “I’ve been told as much.”

“And you too have no idea where Draco might be hiding, right? No clue whatsoever?”

She shook her head. “The last message I received from my son was a letter delivered by owl the day he left Hogwarts. He told me about going into hiding and –” she gave a sarcastic little laugh. “ – ‘ _not to worry’_!”

Harry glanced nervously at her. “Did Draco tell you… I mean…” he broke off.

“Did he tell me about his attachment to you?” She raised her eye-brows. “Mr Potter, my son did not need to tell me. His feelings for you were no secret to me. He’s been besotted with you for far too long.” She looked at Harry with an unreadable expression and Harry felt deeply embarrassed.

“Oh, Merlin,” he gulped, “I had no idea… “

“You did not?” She raised one eyebrow and just a hint of a smile played around her lips.

“As far as I know my son has been fascinated by you since your very first encounter at Madam Malkin’s – you might remember that? Harry Potter was all he would talk about for the rest of the afternoon. _‘Did you see his eyes, mother?’ – ‘His parents were both Gryffindors but Harry could still be a Slytherin, don’t you think mother?’ – ‘He didn’t seem too keen to talk to me, I’m afraid?”_ – It was rather amusing.” She smiled – then sighed.

“But just a few days later Cass was refused to go to Hogwarts although you were admitted – and Draco was furious! He compared your situation to his cousin’s, and that’s when Draco’s emotional conflict and his aversion against Dumbledore began.”

Harry gawped at her.

“He was fascinated by you – yet he pretended not to like you. Still it was very obvious to me. Mr Potter, I had to console a very disappointed Draco after the Sorting Hat had made up his mind about you. I have listened to meticulously detailed reports of each and every one of your Quidditch matches – and I assure you, I’m not even mildly interested in Quidditch! I sometimes had the distinct feeling of knowing far more about _your_ performance at school than about my son’s! At the same time he refused firmly to admit to his feelings. Whenever I suggested as much he got angry – I think more with himself than with me.”

Narcissa Malfoy sighed again. “It was futile of course. The two of you belonged to opposing forces in a frightful war. Draco was torn apart between his attraction to you and his family’s loyalty. In the end the tension was too much for him. I must confess, I didn’t take his feelings seriously for years, I expected him to get over his crush until… “

She paused and closed her eyes for a moment, “After your fifth year at Hogwarts Draco… he had a nervous breakdown and then insisted on becoming a Death Eater! I tried to talk some sense into him and Cassiopeia argued with him all summer – but to no avail. Lucius rejoiced in Draco’s decision of course, but I could not understand why my son wanted to take that step when he wasn’t even seventeen years old!

“Finally he confided in me. He simply panicked because his Patronus had started to change, he was broken-hearted and desperate. _‘Potter hates me, mother, that’s the simple truth. He will always hate me, so I have to get over him.’_ He sincerely thought, the Dark Mark would work like a… like an immunization. But of course it didn’t.”

Harry had no idea what to say to that. He was overwhelmed by remorse, love, compassion and a well-known feeling of guilt.

 _So Draco’s past as a Death Eater was partly my own doing,_ Harry thought. _If only we had become friends…_

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I truly am! I should have stopped fighting Draco! I should have protected him instead. I was just… totally clueless! Stupid! I should have –“

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mr Potter!” Narcissa Malfoy interrupted. “None of what has happened is your fault. It is his family that has failed Draco, not you. If anybody is to blame, it is me. I should have left Lucius years ago, put an end to that farce of a marriage and protected my son from his father’s influence.”

“Maybe… but, surely you did what you thought best at that time?”

She sighed. “We all did, I assume. Still… I told you about Cassy’s father, how he treated his daughter? Well, neither my _husband_ – “, she spat that last word out, “nor myself put an end to Taurus’ abuse. We should have evicted him from the Manor! When her mother died we could have adopted Cassy… and Taurus could have been excluded from the legal order of succession.” She nodded vigorously. “That would have put an end to any of his plans to inherit the family fortune and he would not go after my son now.”

“But surely you had no idea about Taurus Malfoy’s criminal intentions!” Harry protested. “He’s the villain! He’s to blame and no one else!”

“You are probably right. It’s just… I’m feeling so helpless. Blaming myself, assuming that I could have prevented what has happened makes me feel less… powerless, I guess?” She sighed. “It is all rather pointless. Are you aware that even Cassiopeia is guilt-ridden? Because her very own father is a threat to Draco? I tried to soothe her but she still feels terrible about it.”

Harry shook his head. “That’s just… crazy in so many ways! Mrs Malfoy… in the end… I guess none of us – neither you, certainly not Cassy and not…” he gulped, “not even myself – is responsible for what has happened now, right?”

Narcissa Malfoy nodded and her face became all soft. Harry had never seen her that vulnerable before. He was reminded of Draco’s early morning face, the resemblance between mother and son was more obvious than ever.

“Right,” she whispered.

“I guess… what we have to ask ourselves is – how can we help Draco now? Find him before that lunatic gets to him?” Harry said. “It’s just dreadful that our secret connection has been broken and I can’t write to him any more.”

“That is most unfortunate of course… but at least you owl has been merely injured and not killed.” She paused. “I don’t know what sort of _Secretos_ spell Draco applied, there are several varieties… with a bit of luck you might still be able to find my son by means of Otto, as soon as the bird is fully recovered.”

“Really?” Harry stared at here.

Narcissa Malfoy nodded. “Although Otto will no longer deliver your letters, he might still guide you to Draco’s place of hiding provided that you fly along with him… but only if Draco’s spell includes this backup.”

Harry beamed at her. “Mrs Malfoy, that’s just… wonderful news!”

“Let us pray it is. But don’t get your hopes up too much, Mr Potter. We will find out by the time Otto is well again. Thitherto we have to wait.”

Harry sighed. “Right. Until then we have to search without Otto’s help… Draco gave me no clue about his place of hiding but for some reason I suspect he might be in Edinburgh. The Headmistress already asked Cassy’s aunt without result. But by any chance… maybe _you_ know some of Draco’s friends at Edinburgh? Presumably some… gay Muggle friends of his?”

Narcissa Malfoy paled and gawped at Harry. “Homosexual Muggle friends? Are you quite certain?”

Harry bit his lip. “No… it’s just the best guess I can come up with.”

“Honestly, I have no idea, Mr Potter! I never thought Draco would seek out casual homosexual company… and surely not among Muggles! That must have been Lucius’ influence.”

“Maybe we should interview his father, perhaps he knows?” Harry suggested.

Narcissa shook her head. “I highly doubt it. Even if Draco followed his father’s example for a while, he would not tell Lucius. They were never close.”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry nodded, “Draco said as much.”

“Oh,” she blushed, “that is very good. I mean, that he told you about his relationship with his father. If Draco has been talking to you about… about his feelings, that is… you are…” she broke off.

“What I am trying to say, Mr Potter, without much success, is this: I know that my son loves you very much. And if you care for him as well, I truly hope that the two of you will become close… closer than any relationship Draco has ever experienced before. He deserves this.”

She looked at Harry with so much feeling that he was lost for words. He just nodded.

She let out a long sigh.

“In that case… Mr Potter, would you mind, if I called you Harry?”


	38. Nightflight to Hogsmeade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Ladies, gentlemen and everybody else! A short update from the cockpit – this is your captain / author speaking. We are approaching our final destination fast and will reach ‘The End’ in seven chapters. We expect serious turbulences for this part of the journey and therefore ask you to fasten seat belts. Be assured we’ve got everything under control. If the journey has pleased you so far, please recommend our service to other potentially interested travellers. I bid you a good day / night & enjoy the ride!”

Thursday afternoon went by in a flash. After talking to Mrs Malfoy, Harry felt the need to tell McGonagall his vague assumption of Draco hiding at Edinburgh. He decided to skip Potions and went directly to her office instead. As it happened she was just discussing further proceedings with the Headauror when Harry appeared. Kingsley immediately launched a search party of Aurors to scan the city and to make discreet enquiries among the local witchards. Harry was not too optimistic about the outcome – but it was a start, right?

When he finally joined his classmates again, their Potions lesson was nearly over. Professor Slughorn did not seem to mind, he even offered to tutor Harry in case he had questions about today’s homework. The rest of the afternoon Harry spent at the pool, first instructing younger students and later on swimming laps next to Blaise and Tommy, until it was time to get dressed for dinner. Not that he was particularily hungry.

He retreated right after pudding and was now by himself, busy worrying and pacing his room like a trapped animal once again. This time it was not only Draco’s absence that concerned him, he was also worried how Molly and Arthur would get along with Mrs Malfoy, as they intended to spend this evening together.

 _Narcissa_ , Harry corrected himself, _I’m supposed to call her Narcissa._ Well, it would certainly take some time to get used to that but he quite liked the idea of being on such friendly terms with Draco’s mother.

But what about the imminent Weasley and Malfoy encounter? Maybe they were already talking to each other, just one floor below? He remembered Molly’s statement of blaming Draco’s parents rather than Draco himself for becoming a Death Eater – that did not bode well. But Harry wanted them to get along. He knew Draco was close to his mother in his own way, at least as close as two uptight pure-bloods could be. And Harry himself had taken a liking to Narcissa Malfoy, especially this afternoon, when he had seen her all emotional and vulnerable.

He was also curious about Arthur Weasley’s afternoon visit to Hogsmeade. Arthur had tried to talk some sense into Aberforth. Since Laddley’s breakdown, Albus Dumbledore’s brother had been interviewed by both Headmistress and Headauror without success. He continued to flat out refuse to tell Laddley’s story, even when threatened to be taken into custody. Harry had to give him credit for steadfastly keeping the promise he had made to his friend. Maybe Arthur, who got along well with Aberforth, had been able to obtain the truth?

What else was to be done? Otto was still unfit to fly, so Harry could not yet test Narcissa Malfoy’s assumption that the owl might still be able to find Draco, if Harry accompanied him, flying alongside on his broom.

Harry wrecked his brain and continued to pace the room when a soft noise startled him. He gawped at the window, hardly trusting his eyes – for a split second he thought Otto had come to visit, but of course that was impossible, his pet was still at the hospital wing. So this must be another snow owl glaring inside. He opened the window and fetched the letter, half expecting it to be a message from Narcissa Malfoy. Maybe she wanted to give him her side of the meeting with Arthur and Molly? The owl took off again without waiting for a reply.

To Harry’s astonishment the letter did not come from Draco’s mother but from Aberforth Dumbledore.

> _Harry,_
> 
> _Last Saturday you wanted to know the story of Greg’s rancour against the Malfoys. I assume you are aware that several people have asked me since, but I didn’t tell anyone. Just this afternoon even Arthur came over to pester me about it. I still kept my promise to Greg but Arthur got me thinking. If anybody deserves to know the truth, it is you, Harry._
> 
> _So I have made up my mind. I am willing to tell you what happened all those years ago, the reason why Greg hates Lucius Malfoy so much. But I don’t want to put it down on paper. If you really want to know, come see me tonight._
> 
> _I’m aware that you are not allowed to visit Hogsmeade on a Thursday evening but I have business to do at London tomorrow and will be gone for the weekend. I assume your Invisibility Cloak will allow you to make a quick trip to the village unseen? You’ll best fly over here alone. I’ll wait for you in my sitting room upstairs. There’s no need for you to enter the pub, as I’ll leave the back-door unlocked._
> 
> _See you soon, Aberforth Dumbledore  
>  _

Harry stared at the letter – so Arthur Weasley had indeed succeeded although Aberforth had not told him directly! But why did Aberforth want to tell only Harry? Why did he suggest that Harry came alone?

 _He must be aware that I will pass on any information to the other investigators, right?_ Harry wondered. _Or will he make me promise to keep it secret too?_

Harry reread the letter. ‘ _You’ll best fly over here alone’ –_ oh, maybe it was just a precaution for not being found out, as students were forbidden to leave the castle on weekday evenings?

The Invisibility Cloak would only cover one adult on a broom anyway. Hermione and Ron had already retreated to their own rooms and Harry most certainly did not want to get them in trouble. _They are probably lavishly making out by now_ , Harry thought grinning to himself. His mood had improved significantly since he had received the letter. Finally something that needed to be done! The prospect of action was such a relief.

He put on a warm sweater, his coat and gloves. Flying without gloves on a cold November night – not a good idea. When he reached for the Invisibility Cloak, he hesitated. _Team work,_ Harry suddenly remembered Kingsley’s words, _Aurors should never work alone._

 _Well, I’m not an Auror yet,_ Harry thought. _In any case, I’ll leave the note. If someone is looking for me, they’ll know where to find me._

He added a few words to Aberforth’s note, stepped to the corridor outside of his room and pinned the letter to his door.

Then he mounted his broom, covered himself with the cloak and opened the window. _Pity Otto can’t come with me,_ Harry thought, as he took off.

Flying above the grounds in the dark of the night was rather exciting. _Must be smashing to have an owl’s vision,_ Harry mused. He could not see much but he knew the area well enough to find his way. The air was freezing cold and he soon felt numb in spite of his warm clothes. Maybe Aberforth would fetch him a hot drink? Some mulled cider would actually be nice. Suddenly a hint of pleasant anticipation of Christmas seemed to linger in the cold winter air. Remembering Hermione’s words, that it was only a matter of time until Taurus Malfoy was caught, Harry felt cautiously optimistic. Draco would be back before Christmas, right?

Christmas with Draco – how would that be like? Harry was expected to spend the holidays at the Burrow, but Draco would probably want to stay with his mother at the Manor. Would they still be able to spend some time together? Harry heaved a sigh. He was getting ahead of time. First of all, he had to make sure that Draco returned safely to Hogwarts. 

Soon enough Harry saw the lights of Hogsmeade from afar. He decided to make it quick and fly right into the hamlet, which was considered very rude. But nobody could see him anyway under his cloak and it was so much faster than walking. He swept between rooftops towards the Hogshead Inn, avoiding the smoke that rose from the chimneys.

There he was, finally above the back yard of the old pub. He flew down to the first floor. _Don’t the windows of Aberforth’s sitting room face that way?_

There was a flickering light behind drawn curtains of two first-floor windows. Following an impulse Harry hovered in mid-air and peeked inside, making use of a gap between the curtains – and nearly lost his balance on the broom! He had to steady himself because the sight was horrifying – surely that could not be true? He must have hallucinations!

Harry took another peek and gasped. He wanted to shout and smash the window open! Right in the middle of Aberforth’s sitting room was Draco, gagged and bound to a chair. His head had fallen to his chest, he was most likely unconscious. Aberforth was nowhere to be seen. Difficult as it was Harry dragged his eyes away from the dreadful sight and silently touched down just below the window.

Harry’s heart raced. What was he supposed to do now? How could he free Draco without endangering both of them? And how was it even possible that Draco was trapped just a few miles away from the castle? Had Draco been hiding in Hogsmeade all along? No, Otto would have delivered his letters much faster, if Draco had stayed that close. So he must indeed have tried to return and Taurus Malfoy had gotten hold of him. 

Taurus Malfoy! If he had captured Draco right here, at the pub, making use of the sitting room, what the hell had happened to Aberforth? Taurus Malfoy must have overpowered the pub owner who was now probably incapacitated – or maybe even dead? But Arthur had seen Aberforth only this afternoon – so it all must have happened this very evening!

Or what if – Harry gasped – what if Aberforth was Taurus Malfoy’s accomplice and not Laddley? What if all that concern for Laddley’s privacy was nothing but fake? Aberforth might have fought against Death Eaters during the war, but he sure was a dubious man without much of a conscience. Maybe he had sent that letter to lure Harry here – maybe all of this was nothing but a trap?

Harry silently cursed himself. Why had he come here all alone? He would be so much better off with a backup now! But waiting for help from the castle was not an option. Flying back would take far too long. Sending his Patronus was also out of the question, as his stag was bright and shining. If anybody – be it Taurus or Aberforth – was watching the yard, the silvery stag would immediately give away Harry’s presence.

At the moment he was still undetected, well hidden under the cloak and that was his only advantage, he did not want to risk it. Alas, Aberforth – or whoever had sent that letter – was aware of the cloak. They must be watching closely and therefore Harry needed to consider his moves ever so carefully.

What had the letter suggested? The back-door was supposedly unlocked and Harry was expected to climb upstairs right into Aberforth’s sitting room. Well, this he would not do. His only chance was to outsmart his opponent by finding another way inside, grabbing Draco and making a run for the safety of the castle.

Harry’s pulse was still racing and he did not fully trust his own judgement. The picture of Draco tied to that chair was too dreadful – how was he supposed to consider his options wisely, with a cool head, when his boyfriend was up there, bound and gagged? Maybe he needed to call for backup after all, although his every nerve wanted to act immediately? He wanted to groan in frustration – but bit his tongue to keep quiet until he tasted blood. He was up shit-creek.

After seemingly endless consideration he decided to check every window facing the yard. Beginning with the ground-floor windows Harry moved slowly and with uttermost care alongside the wall on the ground. All of those windows were closely shut. If he remembered correctly, they belonged to the pub’s kitchen and storage room. It was a bit weird that it was dark behind the shutters. Come to think of it, there was no noise to be heard from the pub at all? Maybe the pub was closed on Thursday nights?

He rose up into the air again and took another look inside the sitting-room. The scene seemed unchanged except for Draco’s left foot which twitched slightly. Maybe he was regaining consciousness? Although the curtains had not been drawn completely, the window was shut.

Harry teared his eyes away and forced himself to check the other first-floor windows. The one to the left had similar curtains and the same flickering light shone through them – so this must be the sitting room’s second window, which was closed as well. Carefully Harry flew to the third window on this floor. No curtains and darkness behind – this one seemed to belong to another room, maybe a chamber next to the sitting room?

Carefully Harry touched the frame – and hardly believed his luck, when the window sash moved! Heart beating frantically, he charmed the hinges to keep quiet and gave it a careful push – ever so slowly, ready to stop at the slightest sound. The magic seemed to work as the window neither creaked nor rattled, it just opened in slow motion. As his eyes adjusted to the dark Harry looked closer. In the meagre light that fell inside from the moon above Harry could barely make out a bed in one corner, two chairs, a chest of drawers.

Without further hesitation Harry flew inside. He found an empty spot to step quietly down from the broom, fully aware that somewhere close his opponent must be waiting for him. Hopefully his appearance had not yet been discovered. To keep it that way he needed to proceed in total silence, any magic he wanted to use would have to be cast without spelling out loud. He needed to focus his mind on the spells instead. It was possible to do magic like that, but only with a huge amount of concentration.

First of all he used the silencing charm once more, this time on his clothes and boots to prevent any noise from moving. It was dark all around, the only bright light came from a crack below the door to the room, where Draco was held hostage.

Harry considered his options. If he wanted to move without the risk of tripping over something, he needed more light. Which was risky, it could give him away. But he did not want to stay frozen to the spot either. So he concentrated on the tip of his wand and made it shine in the softest possible way, nothing more than a firefly. Then he started to move.

One small step towards the door.

Another.

And a third.

In the total silence of the room the throbbing of his own heart rang in his ears as he approached the door without a sound. He bent down and took a peek through the keyhole – and could make out even less than through the gap of the curtains before.

What was to be done now? Even if the disguise of the cloak worked perfectly, he was aware that by opening the door he would give himself away immediately. Was Taurus Malfoy lurking in some corner, ready to curse as soon as Harry entered the room? The cloak would not protect him from any spell. 

Suddenly Harry remembered a D.A.D.A. lesson from a few weeks ago. Josh had taught them a spell for uncovering hidden threats before entering a place. But would he be able to apply it wordlessly? He pressed his lips close to the keyhole and mouthed the spell without a sound. A faint tickling and a distinct decrease of temperature in his wand was the result. That was good, right? In case of hidden dangers his wand was supposed to heat up instead – so Harry should be safe to enter.

He bit his lips. Carefully, ever so slowly he turned the doorknob and paused. Nothing happened. With uttermost caution he opened the door, still keeping his place. Still no reaction. He could see most of the room clearly now, everything looked familiar from his last visit – with the horrible exception of Draco, gagged and bound to his chair.

Maybe his opponent was waiting downstairs, expecting Harry to enter at the backdoor as suggested in the letter? To prevent any intrusion, Harry cast another silent spell, blocking the door to the hall. And one more spell to seal it properly, just to be sure – that should do.

Harry exhaled deeply and finally allowed himself to act, to do what he had wanted to do since his first glimpse inside – he approached Draco to free him from his bonds.

Chin on his chest, Draco seemed unconscious but at least uninjured, as there was no wound to be seen. Still under his cloak, still keeping quiet Harry tried to remove rope and gag with a wordless spell – the rope glided to the floor but the gag seemed to be stuck. It looked like he needed to unfasten the knot with his hands.

Feeling more confident by any minute he had not been attacked, Harry lifted his cloak, put his wand in the pocket of his jeans and reached down to touch Draco. He started to pick at the gag and managed to loosen it, when several things happened within an instant.

Draco exhaled – and his breath smelled of alcohol.

Draco raised his eyes – and although they were as grey as ever, his glance was strange.

Draco pulled his wand – and while his hand was familiar, his wand was not.

 _It’s not the hawthorn wand!_ Harry thought panic stricken and reached for his own wand – but too late.

It was the last thought that crossed his mind before he fell to the floor stunned.


	39. Girl Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: if you are concerned, please have a look at the End-Notes before reading this chapter.

Mere minutes later Harry was bound to the very same chair as Draco – _no, of course not the real Draco, but some polyjuiced bastard!_ – had been. At least he was not gagged, but the binding was thorough.

“Who are you?” Harry shouted for the umpteenth time at the blonde man, who grinned maliciously at him. So far his opponent had kept quiet and busied himself with fastening and hexing ropes around Harry’s body and the chair. Finally he seemed satisfied with Harry’s ties and stepped back. He gave Harry a strange look.

“Don’t you remember me, darling?” fake-Draco said with mock disappointment. “Oooh, have you forgotten me already? You’re breaking my heart, Harry!”

“This is ridiculous! I’m asking you again: Who are you?” Harry blurted. “Taurus Malfoy? Aberforth? For fuck’s sake – at least show yourself!”

“So you’re not totally stupid, apparently? The way you fell into my little trap like a real simpleton made me question the Dark Lord’s abilities. If he was indeed defeated by an ignorant teenager, the world of dark magic is far better off without him.” The blonde man smirked. “Anyway … keep on shouting, go on! You can even call for help, if you want to. This room is as good as soundproof, nobody will hear you.”

Harry glared at the man. “What do you want from me? Draco’s address, is it? Well, I don’t know where he hides and even if I did – I would never ever tell you!”

“Oh Darling, I’ve no idea what you are even talking about!” fake-Draco laughed. “I know perfectly well where Draco is. Right here, at the Hogshead Inn.” He took a bow.

Harry’s mind raced. Whatever that lunatic wanted from him, he needed to play for more time. Molly and Arthur were supposed to call on him later in the evening. They would go to his room, find the letter pinned to his door and search for him. He just needed to prolong this absurd conversation.

“Fine,” Harry said. “So let’s pretend you’re Draco Malfoy. I’ve got other questions as well. Like… where’s Aberforth? Did you kill him?”

“Ah,” fake-Draco nodded solemnly. “Aberforth Dumbledore. Maybe that’s me? You must be very curious indeed… well, I suggest we play a little game, to kill some time, shall we? We have all night to continue.”

Harry stared at him. Why was this man so certain, that nobody would come to Harry’s aid?

As if he could read Harry’s mind, fake-Draco continued, “In case you are waiting for some back-up, darling, you will be terribly disappointed to hear that the letter I sent you was self-igniting. It burst into flames a few minutes after you read it. Wherever you left it, it’ll be nothing more than a small mound of ashes by now.”

Harry kept a straight face although his heart dropped considerably. Hopefully this was nothing but a bluff? Maybe that was exactly what he himself should do – bluffing?

“If you say so, ‘ _Draco’_. I’m certainly not depending on a fake letter,” Harry said with as much confidence as he could master.

“Are you not? Well, this gets even more interesting,” fake-Draco cocked his head. “Let’s see… you want to know who I am? How about I tell you as soon as you have guessed correctly, what I want from you?”

Harry nodded. Playing crazy mind-games was at least one way to draw their interaction out and increase the chance of somebody – anybody! – coming to his rescue.

“I assume you want to rob Draco of his heritage,” Harry said.

“No, definitely not interested, at least not anymore,” said fake-Draco. “That might have been my intention a few weeks ago. I admit to setting him up, but luckily that didn’t work out and I found something far more worthwhile to fight for.”

Harry’s heart pounded heavily. ‘ _I admit to setting him up’_ fake-Draco had said. That was as good as a confession – this must be Taurus Malfoy indeed!

“If you’re really not interested in the Malfoy’s fortune… maybe you want to hold me to ransom in exchange for a free pass abroad?” Harry said.

The villain shook his head. “Again, not interested any more. If I get what I want, there’s no need to flee the country, no need at all.” He grinned with such confidence that Harry’s hope sank. Whatever that crazy bastard had in mind, he seemed to be damn sure of it.

They stared at each other, taking measure. The pure hatred and viciousness in those grey eyes were far from any disdain Harry had seen in the real Draco’s gaze at any given moment. He was more aware than ever that Draco had never truly hated him, not even when they were still fighting like crazy.

“It seems you require some help, darling?” fake-Draco smirked. “Well, I will show you a clue.” He took something out of his pocket, a small object, and pointed his wand at it. The tiny thing floated through the air until it hovered right in front of Harry’s eyes.

“No…” Harry gasped, “that’s impossible! Where the hell did you get that?”

“Hah! I was pretty certain you would recognize this most precious stone. You dropped it at the Forbidden Forest, hoping it would never be found again, right?”

Harry kept his mouth shut and just stared at the lunatic in front of him.

“Well, you will surely remember the night of the Great Battle of Hogwarts? When Lord Voldemort attempted to kill you in the thick of the forest but both of you passed out? We were all shocked. But as soon as the Dark Lord regained consciousness and Narcissa declared you dead, most of the Death Eaters were ready to believe that victory was still possible. Alas I was not fooled so easily… that is why I trailed behind. While the others approached the castle, I started to search the ground.”

He smiled complacently. “Call it instinct or a lucky guess – I was hoping to find some evidence, some explanation for what had happened. What I did find was even better – I found the Resurrection Stone.”

He waved his wand again and grasped the stone out of thin air, then rolled it gently between thumb and index finger.

“I have to admit, at that time I had no idea what I had tripped over. But I could feel enough ancient magic in this tiny thing to know that it is precious and valuable. So I kept the stone and told no one about it. And finally, just a few days ago I got lucky.”

Fake-Draco looked very smug. “A pub is a wonderful place for gossip, especially a pub as dubious as this one. Eventually every rumour will find its way to the bar. Last weekend… let’s just say, someone dared to criticise Saint Harry, Potter the Saviour. They said you are a pompous brat and very full of yourself. Outrageous, don’t you agree?” He sneered.

Harry’s mind raced. The villain had been at the pub all along – so maybe this was Aberforth and not Taurus Malfoy? Could Albus Dumbledore’s brother have gone mad? 

Whoever this was, he continued, “Unsurprisingly one of your countless admirers defended you at once, declaring Harry Potter a most noble man. To prove their point they said, Harry Potter had been the rightful owner of the Deathly Hollows – all three of them! – but he is so very humble and therefore refused to keep two out of three.”

The villain sneered. “You’re such a fool! Rejecting the indomitable powers of the united Deathly Hollows!”

He gave Harry a derogatory look. “Still it made perfect sense that you should own the Hollows. Everybody knows about your cloak, a heritage from your father. You yourself told the story of the Elder Wand during your final battle with the Dark Lord and dozens of people saw the Deathstick fly willingly into your hand. Yet you don’t use it – obviously.” He nodded at Harry’s wand which lay on the floor in front of Harry, same as his invisibility cloak.

“So I asked myself: Had you somehow gained ownership of the Resurrection Stone too? Well, that’s when I remembered this little gem.”

He threw the stone up in the air and caught it easily.

 _He must have been a Seeker once,_ Harry thought, recognizing the movement of an experienced player.

Fake-Draco laughed. He put the stone in his pocket again and grabbed for Harry’s Invisibility Cloak.

“No!” Harry shouted. “This cloak is mine! You have no right, no right whatsoever–“ 

“Is that so?” The blonde man chuckled while tucking the cloak away. “Well, well… maybe I’m not the most rightful of owners but luckily I don’t have much of a conscience either, so this makes no difference to me. As you can see I have two Deathly Hollows in my possession right now. I assume even a simpleton like you can guess what I want next?”

Harry wriggled in his chair, trying to loosen his bindings without success. “You are a madman!” He shouted. “If you think I will tell you where the Elder Wand is, forget it! I will never ever tell you – nor anybody else!”

“Oh, but I think you will, darling! Because I am rather good at Unforgivable Curses – if I say so myself… especially the Cruciatus Curse has always been one of my favourites.”

Harry inhaled sharply but tried to brace himself. “Go on then. Torture me. I’m not going to tell you.” His heart beat frantically but he was determined. If he had to endure pain, so be it – he would not allow a total lunatic to have the power of the united Deathly Hollows and especially not the Elder Wand.

“Actually, I believe you. I have to admit, it was rather impressive to see you walking up to the Dark Lord in the forest, all alone without fighting back, sacrificing yourself for your friends. So you might well refuse to tell me, even if I used the Cruciatus Curse on you. That is why I have something else in mind.” He smirked and Harry’s heart sank. Whatever his opponent had planned, that malicious grin did not bode well.

The villain waved his wand and slowly Harry’s chair turned around until he faced the door of a closet.

“You might not tell me, even if I tortured you – but what if I torture somebody else?”

The door swung open and Harry gasped.

He was having the most horrible déjà vu.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he hoped – he prayed – that this was not real.

But alas, when he looked again – the sight was unchanged.

Because there was yet another Draco, again unconscious, bound to a chair and gagged, right in front of him.

Harry’s eyes darted frantically between the two Dracos.

“You are totally insane!” he hissed. “Why should I even believe this is the real Draco?”

The villain raised one eyebrow. “Oh. So if this is not your lover, but somebody else, you won’t mind that I torture them? Not a very moral statement. You disappoint me, Potter.”

“No! That is not what I meant!” Harry shouted. He felt a sting of unpleasant truth in the words of his enemy. “Whoever that is, let them go! This is crazy for fuck’s sake!” And he rocked and wriggled some more in his chair.

“Well, as far as I know this is actually Draco Malfoy, Potter. So the question remains: Will you tell me where I can find the Elder Wand or rather watch your pervert of a lover die a slow and painful death? What say you?”

Harry felt sick. He had not been as desperate and powerless since that horrible night at Malfoy Manor. Suddenly he had a vivid flashback of Hermione’s voice, crying in agony. His stomach rose and he retched.

“Merlin, you are… vile!” he rasped.

“Oh, thank you for that heartfelt compliment, darling! Finally someone who appreciates my – ” fake-Draco gasped and swayed a little.

 _That must be the Polyjuice Potion losing its effect on him,_ Harry thought. He knew from his own experience that his opponent would be caught up in unpleasant sensations of change for a short while. A small window of opportunity to do something, anything!

Fake-Draco swore and steadied himself at the window sill. He clasped his head and turned away, bent over.

Harry looked around as far as he could stretch the ropes binding him. He searched the room frantically for any object to free himself, any chance to overcome his enemy as long as the villain was weak.

Harry’s eyes fell on the painting above the fireplace.

“Ariana,” he mouthed to the girl who was watching wide-eyed what was happening. “Help! Please!” After a moment of hesitation the Imagic nodded. She turned around and, to Harry’s uttermost relief, she seemed to walk away from the frame until she disappeared, just like she had done in the night of the final battle.

Harry focused on the villain again. _He must not see the empty painting,_ Harry thought desperately, _I have to distract him!_

He kept watching closely as the man in front of him changed. His shoulders became wider, the whole body put on weight. His hair grew longer and darkened. When he finally straightened up again, his hair was jet black and his eyes were piercing blue.

Harry stared at the man. He knew that icy gaze from the incident board well enough.

“You might have dyed your hair,” Harry said, “but I still recognise you, Taurus Malfoy!”

“Do you now?” He laughed before adding in a fake Scottish accent, “Took you long enough, lad!” He pulled dark glasses out of his pocket and grinned at Harry.

“Tadgh!” Harry gasped. “The nasty bar keeper!”

“That is not a very nice thing to say, Potter. But I can see your point. I most certainly did what I could to keep nosy guests at bay.”

He seemed very satisfied by Harry’s shock. “Do you finally realize what you are up against, Potter? This is not some school-boy’s prank! This is me, a powerful dark wizard, who’s already in possession of two Deathly Hollows and who will go to any lengths to obtain the Elder Wand as well. Do you really want to test my determination?”

“Well, as far as I’ve heard you are not quite as powerful as you would like to be,” Harry said, desperately trying to distract Taurus Malfoy.

“What’s that?” a flash of anger crossed his opponant’s face.

“You’re nothing but a mediocre artist!” Harry added with a smirk. “Poor taste, not much talent.”

“How dare you! Shut up you fool!” Taurus Malfoy shouted pointing his wand at Harry. “ _Crucio_!”

Unbelievable pain shot through Harry’s body in waves. He heard somebody yelping and realized that it must be his own voice. Taurus Malfoy’s Cruciatus Curse was indeed excruciating. When the pain finally ebbed down, Harry breathed heavily. He was covered in cold sweat and shivered.

“Well, well. I should not have lost my temper, but at least you’ve got a taste of what your darling – ” Taurus Malfoy nodded towards the only remaining Draco, “ – will have to endure, if you do not cooperate.”

Harry mastered a lopsided grin. “You might be good at torture but you’re still a bad artist. Never managed to create an Imagic, did you?”

Taurus Malfoy cursed again and another wave of pain hit Harry full force.

 _What if I pass out? Wouldn’t make much sense to torture Draco, if I were unconscious …_ Harry thought dizzily as soon as the pain faded. _Maybe I pretend to pass out?_

He kept his eyes closed and let his head fall to his breast – but mere seconds later a forceful wet-rag-hex took him by surprise. Harry felt like being slapped with a dripping piece of cleaning cloth, he gasped and opened his eyes.

“What’s this? You’re losing consciousness like a damsel in distress? You haven’t got much endurance, have you, Potter?”

Still shivering with the aftermath of pain, Harry managed to sneer. “At least I don’t pretend! You passed the trap-painting hex off as your own invention when in fact you just picked it up from an old book! You’re such a braggart!”

A third wave of pain crushed Harry to the bone. This time he did not need to fake passing out, he actually did, which gained him another wet-rag-hex.

“Well, well… this has to stop, Potter, I need you alive and sensible,” Taurus Malfoy said, “let’s agree to disagree, shall we? I know that I am an excellent artist, you are clearly in the wrong to think otherwise. Anyway, we need to focus on more pressing matters.”

He pointed his wand at the unconscious Draco, still bound and gagged. Apparently the villain applied another wet-rag-hex, as Draco’s head shot up and his eyes snapped open. He looked around frantically until his eyes found Harry’s.

 _This is not Draco! Can’t be him!_ Harry thought staring into another pair of familiar grey eyes. _His gaze is strange… but of course it shouldn’t make a difference to me!_

“Take a good look at my nephew, Potter,” Taurus Malfoy said maliciously, “as long as he’s still handsome. Might not be much of a looker when I’m done with him!” He laughed at his own mean joke –

– when suddenly a bright voice chirped, “Harry? What is going on? Why are you bound to a chair?”

Both Harry and Taurus Malfoy turned their heads towards the painting above the fire-place.

 _Oh no! What has Ariana done?_ Harry’s heart sank at the sight of her companion.

“What is this? A joke?” Taurus Malfoy sneered. “This is the rescue team you’ve been waiting for, Potter? I am so very frightened!” And he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

Ariana had returned to her portrait accompanied by Daisy and both girls were staring wide eyed at the vicious wizard who continued to ridicule them.

“Girl power, that’s what it’s called nowadays, right? You are as crazy as my freak of a daughter, Potter!”

“I beg your pardon?” Daisy frowned. “That is a very rude thing to say!”

“Yes, indeed. And what are you going to do about it, little lady? Teach me some manners?” Taurus Malfoy smirked at the Imagics.

Daisy narrowed her eyes. She took Ariana’s hand and turned to her new found friend. “I think I’ll call my pet now, Ariana. He might look a bit grim but he won’t hurt you, I promise – so don’t be frightened!”

Harry groaned in frustration. What use was a mighty beast, if it was nothing but paint on canvas?

“Pinkie!” Daisy shouted with a surprisingly loud voice, “Attack!” – and she pointed at Taurus Malfoy.

To Harry’s utter amazement Pinkie the raptor shot out of the painting and went for the vile wizard, claws first and with an ear-piercing shriek. The bird was huge, at least as tall as Taurus Malfoy and not only armed with an enormous beak and razor-sharp claws, but he seemed to be searing hot as well. The temperature rose significantly with his appearance and soon enough all Harry could see was smoke and a blur of flickering orange feathers where Taurus Malfoy had stood next to the window.

“What madness is this? Ahhhh … get off me!” the attacked cried. “Nooo … ahhhh …” He blustered and Pinkie shrieked again.

More and more smoke filled the room and it became difficult to breathe. Harry realized with alarm that the curtains were on fire and a few floor-boards were smouldering already.

 _What if the pub goes up in flames?_ Harry thought desperatly. _Draco and I will be burned alive! Fucking hell – no!_

He concentrated all his energy on the nearest window and bellowed “ _Confringo_!”

A deafening blast shattered the room. Harry’s chair toppled over and he found himself lying on his back, legs up. He coughed and gawped through dust and smoke – apparently he had done rather too well. Not only had the window disappeared, but most of the wall to the yard was also gone.

Taurus Malfoy wailed, Pinkie shrieked one last time – and in slow motion the two of them tipped over the now open edge of the floor. The raptor flapped his powerful wings and rose up into the night, his claws drawn into Taurus Malfoy’s chest.

 _Bloody hell! The fire is spreading quickly – the fresh air must be feeding it…_ Harry coughed and choked. He expected to hear the firewitchards’ alarm any second now.

 _Silencing Charm still intact after the detonation? I don’t think so,_ Harry thought. _I suppose all of Hogsmeade must be wide awake by now._

Just to make sure he shouted at the top of his lungs, “Help! Help!” before he passed out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: nothing worse than what's happening in canon volumes ... but still ... violence, torture, threat of torture, abusive language.


	40. Poppy Pomfrey’s Patch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Relax, take a break.  
> Breathe in... breathe out... repeat.

The first thing Harry heard was a hollow hooting.

“Is he finally conscious?” someone – _maybe Ron?_ – whispered.

“Shut up!” a soft female voice replied. “Matron only said, he _might_ wake up – we don’t know yet.”

Harry opened his eyes with some effort. He was at Hogwarts’ hospital wing and saw with a jolt of pleasure that yes, indeed Ron and Hermione were sitting at his bed. He gave them a lopsided grin. Otto, perched on Hermione’s shoulder, hooted some more.

 _How many times have we been here before?_ _Because one of us was injured?_ Harry thought. _Far too often for my taste._

“Yeah, chhh… I’m conscious,” he croaked, “but barely!”

“Oh, Harry! That’s… fantastic,” Hermione said and her voice was thick. “We’ve been so worried!” She reached for his glasses and carefully put them on his nose.

“Good to have you back, mate,” Ron grinned but his eyes were suspiciously bright.

“Sorry… I didn’t… fetch you… before I left but –“ Harry started to explain in a horrible voice he hardly recognised as his own, when Hermione cut him off.

“No, shush Harry! You need to keep quiet as your vocal chords were injured, same as a good part of your skin. You’ve got burns all over your arms and legs. The fumes nearly killed you, Hogsmeade’s firewitchards pulled you out at the very last moment – but you’ll be alright soon enough. Madame Pomfrey has done a really great job, even the Healers from St. Mungo’s say so. You’ll be shipshape in no time!”

Harry’s heart sank. He reached for Hermione’s hand – and realized heavy bandages around his fingers. “Draco?” He whispered urgently.

“Draco? Oh – he hasn’t returned yet… but Kingsley is confident they’ll find him eventually. Or maybe he’ll come back on his own account, if he reads the Prophet – by catching Taurus Malfoy you made the front page of course.” Hermione said. “Anyway – Draco’s no longer in danger and that’s the main thing.”

“Good,” Harry sighed with relief. _Although it’s a bit far-fetched to say I caught Taurus Malfoy,_ he thought. _Seems like Pinkie didn’t kill that bastard after all… but if the real Draco is still missing…_

“Who was… chhh… at the pub with me… – ” he rasped but Ron interrupted.

“Hey, you really need to go easy on your voice, mate, or matron will throw us out.”

“Yes, she most certainly will,” Madame Pomfrey said giving his visitors a stern glance before she smiled widely at Harry. “Welcome back, Mr Potter.” She looked quite pleased when he nodded back and grinned.

“Ms Granger, Mr Weasley – you know the deal. Mr Potter is not supposed to speak or you’re banned from the Hospital Wing faster than you can say ‘ _laryngitis’_.”

Harry shook his head in protest and made a writing gesture.

Madame Pomfrey raised her eye-brows. “You really think so? With these bandages?”

He nodded vigorously.

“Well, if you must. But no talking! Do you hear me?” She sighed and took a quill and parchment from her apron’s pocket. “I’ll give you five minutes with your friends, just to get an update, assuming you won’t be content without knowing what’s happened.”

Then she addressed Hermione and Ron. “Five minutes – do you hear me? So you better give him a summary, not the long story!” She turned away tending to a kid two beds further down the room muttering something like “… no idea what’s good for him…”

Harry reached for the quill but hardly managed to pick it up, let alone to write something.

“Don’t bother, Harry,” Hermione said. “I think we can guess what you want to know.” She passed a glance with Ron, who whispered, “Go on!”

“There was an explosion – we assume you did this?” she asked.

Harry nodded.

“And a fire… when the firewitchards arrived, they found you and Aberforth upstairs, both bound to chairs. As I’ve said before, it was a close call – for the two of you – but you made it and so did Aberforth. The pub… basically it’s burnt down.”

So the other Draco, the one who had stared at Harry wide-eyed just before Pinkie arrived, that must have been a polyjuiced Aberforth, he concluded. What else did he need to know? With a sudden jolt of panic Harry remembered his wand, lying in front of his bound feet, when Taurus reached for the invisibility cloak.

Harry looked intently at Hermione and waved his wand-arm.

“Your wand? What about it? It’s right here, in the drawer of your bed-side table, perfectly intact.” Hermione opened the drawer for him.

Harry was immensely relieved to see that his cherished Holly wand and also the invisibility cloak lay side by side within his reach. Not that he could pick them up with these bandages, but still.

“Aberforth is even worse off than you are, Harry! That’s why he was transferred to St. Mungo’s. But McGonagall says he’s making good progress and will be back soon. And Taurus Malfoy – well, we’re not sure what exactly has happened to him. He was found in a field outside of Hogsmeade, badly injured, hardly a bone of his body unbroken. He’s still unconscious, also at St. Mungo’s. Apparently they have a special ward for prisoners… he’s heavily guarded, of course.”

Hermione gave him a very concerned look.

“Everybody is dying to know what’s been going on, mate,” Ron added, “there’s a lot of wild rumours about that night… why you and Abe were trapped at the pub and how Taurus Malfoy got those nasty cuts, you know? But I guess we’ll find out, as soon as your voice is back and you can give a full statement. So… you better do as matron tells you ‘cause we want to get the full story from you and fast, right?” Ron grinned.

“Oh, shut up, Ron! This is not about your curiosity!” Hermione protested.

“But Mr Weasley still has a point,” Madame Pomfrey said, approaching Harry’s bed again. “Time’s up!”

Harry shook his head and frowned at her, before he looked at Hermione with pleading eyes.

“Ah, I guess, you want to know what day it is?” she said. “But then we have to go, okay?”

Harry nodded.

“Very good bedside manner, Ms Granger,” matron complimented her, “one day you’ll make an excellent Healer!”

“Thank you, Madame Pomfrey,” Hermione smiled and addressed Harry again, “You’ve been unconscious for seven days, Harry. Today’s Thursday, the nineteenth of November.”

***

After the initial shock of having missed one full week Harry quickly adjusted to his lot and not just because Madame Pomfrey told him in no uncertain terms what would happen, if he disobeyed her orders. The day he woke up, Harry had to admit that he was indeed in no way fit to do anything more useful than to lie in bed, gulp down whatever potion was supposed to boost his healing and endure the lengthy procedure of getting his bandages changed. Fortunately he made good progress. The very next day he already got up for short walks and was able use his voice again, although matron strictly limited the time he was allowed to talk.

Visitors came to see him and to wish him well – a lot of them. Molly and Arthur were there on the very first day he was awake, as were Ginny and Cass. In the course of the next days each and every one of his friends appeared and most of the teachers as well, including a very tearful Hagrid and a confusingly emotional Headmistress.

Professor Flitwick deeply regretted the changes he had made to Daisy’s pet, he was horrified about the fire Pinkie had set to the pub. When Harry complimented him on the power of his creation anyway, Flitwick declined.

“Oh, no,” he said with a dismissive gesture, “not my invention… I picked the spell up from that book Ms Granger discovered, Cyclopedia of Mean Arts. It’s called Firebird Hex and enables a bird’s Imagic to leave the canvas. I’ve never heard of anything like that before, that’s why I wanted to try it. But I should have used a tiny bird, not such a beast!”

He shook his head and sighed. “The name ‘Firebird Hex’ was suspicious of course and that is why I asked Daisy to stay at the seaside with him, close to the water until I finished testing its powers. They were never meant to leave before I was convinced that the hex was safe… but then Ariana arrived at Bellevue Beach of all places and Daisy – true Gryffindor girl that she’s been in her time – entered the fray.”

Harry had to assure Flitwick that he was grateful for Pinkie’s appearance none the less – in spite of his skin that scaled off like a reptile’s. What use would a tiny Firebird have been that night? Or any other Imagic for that matter? Once again what had seemed to be a mishap had proved to be the right thing to do.

Andromeda Tonks visit was a pleasant surprise, although she had to leave Teddy downstairs.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s having a great time – Hagrid is sitting him,” said Andromeda. Instead of Teddy she was accompanied by her sister. Harry was a bit embarrassed by Narcissa Malfoy seeing him in pyjamas as she was of course immaculately styled as usual. But Draco’s mother smiled and enquired politely about his health. She was clearly determined to be on friendly terms with him.

“I am very glad that your recovery is making good progress, Harry,” she said looking slightly worried, “and not just because I hope that you will be able to find my son… although I have to admit, that’s part of it.”

Draco’s continued disappearance was worrying indeed. Not only had The Prophet covered the story of Taurus Malfoy’s capture, including a report about Harry’s injuries, but the Ministry had released several statements as well, clearing Draco’s name from any suspicion and asking him explicitly to return – yet he stayed away. Neither the Aurors searching nor the witcharding community of Edinburgh found any trace of his whereabouts.

Whenever the terrible itch of his healing skin kept Harry awake at night, he could not help wondering… if Draco quite simply did not _want_ to return? Maybe living with his gay Muggle friends or lovers was better than anything the wizarding world had to offer – including Harry? Or – an even more dreadful thought – what if Draco was in trouble? Harry needed to find out, the sooner the better. And Otto seemed to be his only chance to contact Draco.

The owl had been declared fully recovered and ready to fly before Harry regained consciousness, but Otto insisted on staying at the hospital wing. Harry’s pet had been transferred several times to the owlery, yet as soon as someone opened a window to ventilate the ward, the owl flew back to Harry’s bedside. In the end Madame Pomfrey gave in.

Harry was pleased by his pet’s affection, yet disappointed by Otto’s continued refusal to deliver a letter to Draco. Narcissa blamed the broken secrecy spell for his behaviour, but insited he might still be able to find Draco, if only Harry accompanied him in the air – hence her eagerness for Harry’s full recovery.

When Kingsley Shacklebolt came to get Harry’s statement, Madame Pomfrey did not alter her restrictive regime one bit for the Headauror. Therefore Harry’s interview had to be stretched over several days. He told the Kingsley everything that had happened, from the forged letter – which had indeed gone up in flames – to Harry’s encounter with Taurus Malfoy including everything the dark wizard had told Harry about his true intentions.

“I think we have to reconsider the safekeeping of late Headmaster Dumbledore’s wand,” said Minerva McGonagall who listened in to the interview.

Harry nodded. He had come to the same conclusion. The Elder Wand was too much of a temptation. Eventually some other crazy wizard, greedy for power, would try to find it. Anybody who knew its place of hiding was a possible target. And Harry was not interested in that kind of experience again, thank you very much. No, they had to find better storage for the Elder Wand than Albus Dumbledore’s tomb – and for the Resurrection Stone as well, which had been retrieved safely from Taurus Malfoy’s pocket, same as Harry’s cloak.

Harry secretly thought it would be best to destroy both Elder Wand and Resurrection Stone in public – to let the witcharding world see they were gone. But if the Headmistress came up with another idea, he would be willing to listen.

***

Exactly one week after he had regained consciousness, Harry sat on his bed, still in the hospital wing, but fully dressed. He looked out of the window. It was a beautiful morning, freezing cold but the sun was shining. Today he was finally allowed to move back to his own room, although he had been granted a few more days to recover before having to attend lessons again. Harry planned to make good use of his freedom. Walking in the grounds, some light workout – he was eager to get in good enough shape to fly. He wriggled his fingers. Would he be able to hold onto a broomstick yet? The skin looked still red and bruised, but Madame Pomfrey was optimistic.

“Looking forward to escaping my control, I presume?” she asked with a smile. “I still advice strongly to take it easy, Mr Potter, or you’ll be back here in a jiffy! And we both don’t want that, do we?”

Harry grinned back. He suspected she was glad to get rid of him. His many visitors had been quite a disturbance to the tranquillity of her ward.

“No worries, I promise to be careful,” he said, “don’t want to bother you any longer. Honestly, Madame Pomfrey – I’m ever so grateful for your care. You’re a star!” And he got up and hugged her.

“Oh, Mr Potter!” The matron of Hogwarts blushed, taken by surprise. “Just doing my duty, Mr Potter, but thank you anyway. Are you sure you’ll be alright walking to the guesthouse without help? Or shall I fetch someone to accompany you?”

“No, that won’t be necessary, thanks. I’ll be fine – it’s only climbing down the stairs that’s still a bit of a plight, but I’ll manage.”

“Well… you could just disapparate downstairs instead, if you wish? You’d still have to climb the stairs of the guesthouse of course.”

“I’m not sure that would make it much easier,” Harry said, “besides… since when is it possible to disapparate at Hogwarts?”

“The Ministry lifted the ban on the hospital wing just for today, because Aberforth is transferred to my ward,” she looked quite pleased. “The Healers of St. Mungos agreed to let him go since he insisted on leaving London. Says, he won’t get well in the city.”

“But that’s great! I had no idea he’s coming! McGonagall only told me that he finally regained consciousness three days ago. When will he be here? ‘Cause I’d really like to wait for him, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course you can stay until Aberforth arrives, Mr Potter. He’ll be ever so glad to see you again, I’m sure. Might even encourage his recovery, seeing you well enough to leave my ward. He should arrive within the hour.”

Harry nodded. _I guess I better use the time to pack my stuff and catch up on some lessons,_ he thought. He sighed and started to put the many parchments and books Hermione had left at his bedside table into a bag.

Exactly half an hour later Harry felt a slightly buzzing vibration. He raised his eyes from some dreadfully boring parchment about potions just in time to see a group of five people appear out of thin air, two witches in Healers’ robes supporting a fragile looking Aberforth and – no other than Gregory Laddley accompanied by Josh Jordan.

“Well hello everybody! Mr Dumbledore, let me help you… here you go!” said Madame Pomfrey as she guided her new patient to the bed next to Harry’s.

“Thank you, Poppy, my dear,” Aberforth rasped in a horrible voice and sat down. His eyes met Harry’s, who was struck by the sight of him. Aberforth’s eyebrows were gone and his face was covered in heavy rashes that made Harry appreciate the fact, that his own face had been barely touched by the flames.

“Merlin, Harry, it’s awfully good to see you again!” Aberforth reached for Harry’s hand and pressed it fiercely – which made Harry wince.

“Sorry, still sore,” he replied, “I’m very glad you are getting better, Mr Dumbledore.”

“That night at the pub…chhh… I thought we’re both done for. If you hadn’t blasted the wall and called for help… seriously, thank you, Harry.” He coughed and shook his head. “That bastard would have rejoiced in killing us both slowly, whether you had given him what he wanted or not. I still can’t believe that he fooled me – chhh… ”

“Well, well, Mr Dumbledore, that’s quite enough talking for now,” Madame Pomfrey interrupted. “You’ve just made an exhausting apparition and need to rest. If you want to get as well as Mr Potter here, who’s ready to leave my ward, you better do what I tell you, alright?”

The two Healers from St. Mungo’s exchanged an amused glance. “I guess our expertise is no longer required,” the younger one said, “Madame Pomfrey, we’re happy to leave Mr Dumbledore in your capable hands. I sincerely hope he will follow your professional advice – which he rarely did at St. Mungo’s by the way.” She grinned at her former patient.

“Listen, girlie –“ Aberforth started to reply but Madame Pomfrey was having none of it.

“Shush, Mr Dumbledore! No talking! And don’t you dare address a Healer without proper respect, do you hear me?” She put her hands on her hips. “Or I might suppose you’re not just recovering from injuries but losing your marbles as well!” She looked quite annoyed.

Aberforth Dumbledore shrugged but at least kept quiet.

Harry suppressed a laugh and was glad to see, that the young Healer grinned as well. She didn’t seem offended one bit. _Healers are probably used to far worse,_ he thought.

The other Healer said, “Well, that’s settled then. Madame Pomfrey, before we head back, we need to tell you about Mr Dumbledore’s treatment so far. Maybe we could talk somewhere in private for a minute?”

“Most certainly, Healer! Let’s go to my office, as soon as these gentlemen have left us, shall we?” The matron nodded at Harry, Josh and Laddley.

“Right,” Harry said to Aberforth, “I’m glad you’ve arrived safely, Mr Dumbledore. I’ve got to go now but I’ll visit before long – and we can talk about that night as soon as Madame Pomfrey sees fit.”

He stood up and grabbed for his bag. The handle cutting into his palm made him wince.

“Mr Potter,” Gregory Laddley said, “may I help you? I assume you’re moving back to your room at the guest house?” And he reached for Harry’s bag.

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary – “ Harry tried to refuse but instead of Laddley, Josh snatched his bag away.

“Don’t be daft, Harry,” said the young Auror, “of course we’ll help… we have to go to the guest house anyway.”

So they left together. Laddley kept quiet but Josh chatted away about Teddy, Molly’s success as D.A.D.A. teacher and even about the fine weather – until Harry got the distinct impression he was avoiding some other topic.

 _What is Laddley doing here anyway?_ Harry wondered.

As far as Harry had been told, Laddley had only been well enough for interrogation a few days ago, after the disaster at the pub. Therefore his statement contained barely any news but rather confirmed what the investigators had assumed all along.

Laddley verified Taurus Malfoy’s fake identity as Tadgh the barkeeper and confessed to his complicity. His regular visits to the pub – before and after every trip to St. Mungo’s – had given them plenty of opportunity to make arrangements. Taurus Malfoy had supplied Laddley with Polyjuice Potion, apparently he had nicked some of his nephew’s personal belongings from the Manor including a brush. And he told Laddley to impersonate Draco on several occasions, one of them was the abduction of Albus Dumbledore’s Imagic.

Just like Harry had suspected, Dumbledore had been lured to visit Ariana’s hexed Filia Cup – and been trapped there. Draco’s mean uncle had gotten hold of the cup during the night of the battle of Hogwarts, picking it up from the ruins of the pub, the very same night he had also found the Resurrection Stone in the forest.

 _That bastard has some nerve, looting other people’s property in the middle of a battle,_ Harry thought.

Laddley, disguised a Draco, had taken the cup to the Archive and threatened to invite some dark wizard’s Imagic to join Ariana, if her brother was unwilling to enter the cup – until Dubledore’s Imagic gave in. At least the Imagic had pleaded and delayed the inevitable until the Polyjuice Potion’s effect faded on Laddley – therefore Dumbledore was able to identify the perpetrator and leave a message. Laddley must have been immensely relieved, that none of the Ministry’s employees seemed to notice his changed appearance, when he left the Archives. Immediately after the abduction he returned the cup, now holding Dumbledore’s Imagic, to Taurus Malfoy. Laddley insisted he had no knowledge about its present place of hiding.

Later on, teaching at Hogwarts and forced to see a Mental Healer, Laddley started to regret his partaking in the crime and became ready to confess. Taurus Malfoy realized his accomplice’s fading loyalty and consequently tried to get rid of him. The fake barkeeper simply spiked Laddley’s drink, the butterbeer he always had before disapparating to see his brother at St Mungo’s. 

Now Laddley was awaiting his trial. Harry glanced at his former teacher, who had lost weight, his eyes looked hollow and he breathed heavily while climbing the stairs of the guesthouse. He seemed to be in even worse shape than Harry.

“There you are, Harry!” said Josh dropping Harry’s bag in front of his room. “I guess you’ll want to retreat for a bit? Take a rest?”

Harry nodded.

Josh passed a glance with Laddley. “Well… just so you know. Mr Laddley has asked to talk to you, that’s the sole reason for his transfer to Hogwarts.”

“Mr Potter –“ Laddley gulped, “I want to apologize for what I’ve done – and I’d like to tell you why I got involved in the first place – ”

Harry shrugged. “I respect your remorse, Prof– … Mr Laddley, but I don’t need to know why you chose to do what you’ve done.”

Laddley looked crestfallen and Josh jumped in. “Harry, just… of course it is your decision, nobody is forcing you to listen, but… you might want to reconsider. Others have heard his confession and… frankly you should know as well. Take your time. It doesn’t have to be today. Mr Laddley is staying at Hogwarts under my surveillance for the weekend. I’ll accompany him back to London on Monday.”

Harry sighed. He was not at all interested in whatever bizarre reason Laddley had for getting involved in Taurus Malfoy’s wicked schemes. Laddley hated Lucius Malfoy, probably had been promised some money as well. Whatever.

“Seriously, Harry, give him a chance to explain,” Josh pleaded.

“For all I care,” Harry gave in. “But... there’s a lot of other stuff I need to do – catch up on missed lessons, get back in shape. So – let’s do it right now and get it over with quickly, okay? Just give me a minute and then I’ll see you – where exactly?”

“At the first floor common room, I’ll make sure we’re undisturbed.” Josh said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Two hundred kudos! <3  
> *Auntie, grinning like a Cheshire cat*


	41. Broken Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: if you are concerned please look at the end-notes before reading this chapter.

“Thank you for your time, Mr Potter” Gregory Laddley said. “I’ll try to keep it short. But before I start – please accept my sincere apology. I should never have done what I did. I deluded myself to justify my actions. What I’m about to share with you can never be an excuse for my crimes, I am fully aware of it.”

They were in the first floor common room, sitting around the table. Josh had prepared tea for the three of them and Harry was grateful for the hot drink, although his sensitive skin protested painfully when he tried to wrap his fingers around the cup. And of course the tea was less perfect than the many cups Draco had prepared for Harry one floor upstairs.

“Apology accepted,” Harry nodded at Laddley, trying for what he hoped was an encouraging smile. He did not intend to argue, that would only prolong their conversation. The sooner Laddley got it all out, the better.

“Well then…” Laddley sighed. “I suppose… it all started when I was still a student. You are aware that I’m a half-blood? Unusual as this might be, I was still sorted into Slytherin, probably because my mother was a Slytherin. Of course I was anything but popular among my fellows. It wasn’t easy, especially for the first few years, but eventually I got used to it. The other students considered me a loner… at least I wasn’t bullied, probably because I was a good student and the toughest beater of our Quidditch team.

“Lucius Malfoy was the most popular of our house and year, the other Slytherins downright worshipped him. He was clever, good looking and had lots of money. Of course I envied him like everybody else but we hardly ever spoke. He ignored me for six and a half years – until during our final year at Hogwarts he started to befriend me. I was surprised but pleased and I certainly didn’t question his sudden change of behaviour. Secretly I suspected he wanted my support preparing for N.E.W.T.s. Well, we passed the exams, school was over – and Lucius was still my friend. I was astonished but glad about it.

Laddley inhaled deeply. “That’s when he invited me to the Manor. _‘My parents want me to celebrate, so I’ll throw a party. It’s going to be fun!’_ Lucius said, _‘You must come, Greg, stay for the weekend, if possible! And please bring your brother along – I’ve got a younger brother as well, they can be friends too!’_ That’s what surprised me the most – that he invited my brother as well. I told him my brother was a Muggle, just like our dad, but still Lucius insisted.

“So I agreed to ask my parents. They gave their consent, in fact they were rather proud that I had made such an influential friend. And Timothy – my brother – he was delighted about the invitation! Tim was never envious of my magic. Probably because he was a very gifted kid himself, an excellent artist. At seventeen he was already a student at the Royal Academy of Arts – that’s how good he was. I’m only eleven months older than Tim and although we are very different, we have always been close. So I was happy to bring him along. Tim was interested in everything beautiful. When I told him about the Manor and its famous arts collection, he was simply thrilled. One Saturday afternoon in July Tim and I went to Malfoy Manor – and I’ll regret that visit for the rest of my life, Mr Potter.”

Harry stared at Laddley’s hands, holding his cup. They were shaking so hard that he had to put the cup down. Whatever had happened at the Manor, it must have been bad. Finally Harry’s curiosity kicked in. He no longer listened to get it over with, he wanted to know.

“Carry on, Mr Laddley,” Josh said quietly.

“Lucius was there, but neither his parents nor his brother. He excused their absence with urgent family business but it seemed odd. The first of many signs, that this invitation was not what it was supposed to be. Lucius was in exceedingly good spirits, he joked and laughed while showing us around. And he was especially nice to Tim, complimented him on his looks, asked him lots of questions about Muggle Arts – and Tim was simply enraptured. For the first time it dawned on me, that Lucius might be homosexual. His sexual desires had never concerned me before, nobody talked about it at school, at least not in front of me. I had been totally ignorant, but now I was alarmed.

“I tried to intervene, even suggested Tim and I should return home as there clearly was no party. But Tim didn’t want to leave and Lucius insisted as well. ‘ _Be a little patient, Greg,’_ he said, _‘I promise there will be other guests, you’re just early because I wanted to show you and your brother around before the others arrive, they have been here before, that’s all.’_

“And indeed at dusk other guests appeared, about a dozen of them. Only wizards, none of our class-mates, some several years older than we were. And they all stared at Tim in a way that made my stomach churn. When I asked Lucius, why he had not invited any girls, he just laughed. Again I suggested we should leave, but Tim talked me out of it. He was fascinated by Lucius, eager to discover all of the Manor’s treasures – and completely oblivious to the attention he got.”

 _Oh Merlin,_ Harry thought, he had a sinking feeling about what he would be told next.

“Tim… Mr Potter, he was far more than just handsome or good looking. Tim was downright beautiful. I was his brother, so I was used to his looks, but I was well aware of people staring at him, wherever we went. Tim was tall and slender with the face of a Hellenic god, amber curls down to his shoulders and ridiculously blue eyes. Luckily he was anything but vain, most of the time Tim was unaware of the attention he caused. In fact he was still very much a child, a prodigy painter. As far as I knew he had never been in love before, neither with a girl or a boy.

“So we stayed. Dinner was served but I was far too alarmed to enjoy the meal. After the last course everybody retreated to the library for firewhisky. When some greasy guy made a suggestive remark about my brother’s body, I finally had enough. I stood up and insisted on leaving. By then Tim had started to feel uncomfortable too, as he readily agreed to come with me and Lucius seemed to understand as well. _‘I’m sorry you don’t like my other friends,’_ he said, _‘go if you must, but don’t leave with a grudge. Have one last drink with me, before we part, for our friendship’s sake!’_

Laddley closed his eyes. His face was ashen and his voice hoarse.

“That’s about the last thing I remember from that night. When I woke up next morning, I felt sick and had a terrible headache, couldn’t remember a single face from the guests – but otherwise I was unharmed.

“Unlike my brother. Tim was lying next to me in a four-poster and he was… just broken!” Laddley gasped. “There were bruises, all over his limbs. But it wasn’t only his body that had been abused, his mind was broken as well. I asked him what had happened but he didn’t say a word, he just silently cried and cried. It was terrible… in the end I carried Tim out of that horrible house and as soon as I could disapparate I took us both home.

“My parents were…“ he shook his head and sobbed, “they made the mistake of taking Tim to a Muggle hospital and… the doctors told them that their son had been tortured… and raped, more than once.”

Harry gasped.

Laddley continued, his voice hoarse, “As Tim was only seventeen – still a minor by Muggle standards – my parents and I were interrogated. Of course there’s no record in the Muggle world of the Malfoy’s, nor of their bloody Manor, so our story made no sense to them. In the end my father was blamed. He was accused of having sold his own son to paedophiles! When he was put in pre-trial custody he killed himself.”

“Oh Merlin,” Harry gulped. Lost for words he reached for Laddley’s shoulder and pressed it for a moment. The unexpected touch startled the man and he stared at Harry.

“Do you understand now why I hate Lucius Malfoy so much?” Laddley rasped.

Harry nodded. “Of course I understand. But Draco is not his father.”

“I know he isn’t. But my hatred drove me crazy. I thought I had found a way to hurt the father by harming the son, just like my father, my whole family has been destroyed by what happened to Tim.” He shook his head. “Madness of course.”

“But… surely Lucius Malfoy and the other offenders were put on trial by the Wizengamot?”

Laddley shook his head. “No they weren’t. Mum only managed to bring Tim to St. Mungo’s after dad’s suicide, more than four weeks later. The Healers agreed that Tim had been molested and cursed, but there wasn’t enough evidence to prove anything. Tim didn’t say a coherent sentence, hasn’t talked much up until today, at least nothing that makes sense. But even if he had – a Muggle’s testimony at the Wizengamot of those times? Accusing the member of an influential pure-blood family? Forget it! Damn it, my testimony wasn’t enough and I was a wizard! Nobody wanted to cross the fucking Malfoys!

“I was so mad! And not just at the Malfoys, but also at myself! Why hadn’t I left the Manor in time, at least when those greasy guests arrived? Why had I trusted Lucius Malfoy in the first place? Why hadn’t I realized that his ‘friendship’ was nothing but fake? Of course he had just lusted for Tim! Malfoy had spotted my brother at the train station, after Christmas, when Tim saw me off together with mum. That’s all the reason he needed. Just a beautiful young man he wanted to share with his perverted friends. I have been guilt ridden ever since.”

Laddley exhaled deeply. “I met Taurus Malfoy six years ago, at a Muggle dinner party actually. At that time I was working for the Ministry in Geneva. We easily spotted each other as wizards and started to talk. I had no idea he was Lucius’ brother, of course, he called himself Taurus Mayfield at that time. We became sort of friends and eventually he told me how much he hated his brother – before I even realized who that brother was. When I found out his real name, we bonded over our mutual hatred, disregarding our other differences. Taurus knew that I was a loyal employee of the Ministry and didn’t support Voldemort, so when he moved back to England after Voldemort’s return, we lost contact.

“But then my mother died, right at the end of the war. She had taken care of my brother until then, the broken man he had become. Tim needs medical care, regular magical treatments included. He wouldn’t survive at a Muggle facility for very long. So St. Mungo’s is the only option – unless I make enough money to pay for 24/7 magical nursing. Let me tell you, Mr Potter that costs a fortune! I made good money as long as I was abroad, but with my mother gone, I wanted to be closer to Tim. I’m the only one who visits – without me, he has no one.

“That’s why I was pretty desperate at the beginning of last summer. And then Taurus Malfoy contacted me out of the blue. Lucius had already been sentenced to Askaban, which didn’t ease my resentments one bit. He served time for other crimes, not for what he had done to my brother! So when Taurus let me in on his plan, I was ready to go through with it. The idea was to compromise Draco Malfoy and make him lose his probation, get him imprisoned and permanently disinherited. Taurus was optimistic to rebuild his own reputation and claim the family fortune. If I was willing to support his plan, he would pay me enough money to hire professional care for my brother. That was the deal and I was mad enough to agree. The rest of the story – well, you know what happened.”

Gregory Laddley gave Harry a pleading look. “As I’ve said before, Mr Potter, today I can see – what I did was wrong and evil. I am so very sorry for putting you and Aberforth in jeopardy, for driving Draco Malfoy into hiding. The thought alone, that some other innocent person came to harm because of me, that’s terrible. Please believe me, I never wanted that, I was delusional. Anyway – I’m ready to pay the price for what I did. But I want you to understand… I’m not a bad person. I love my brother and I just wanted justice for his suffering… and enough money to ease his life, you know.” He buried his face in his hands.

Harry was lost for words. The whole story was too horrible to be true – but at the same time totally believable. He hated Lucius Malfoy with all his heart, more than ever. What Laddley had done was wrong, of course it was, but Harry understood. He did not want to ponder what he himself would be ready to do, if a loved one was abused and hurt like that.

The common room was quiet except for Laddley’s sobs. Josh had listened in total silence. He looked concerned but not at all shocked. _Must have heard the story before,_ Harry thought. They exchanged a glance and Harry knew what he had to do.

“Mr Laddley,” he said softly, “I understand. I am very sorry for your brother – and for the loss of your parents. Naturally I don’t agree one bit with what you’ve done, seeing what it has cost me – but… as I said, I understand. I won’t hold it against you.”

Laddley raised his face and whispered, “Thank you.”

He exhaled deeply and seemed to calm down. After a few seconds of hesitation he turned to Josh, “Auror Jordan – as Mr Potter was kind enough to listen to me today, maybe I could return to London now? And visit my brother this weekend again? He’s used to seeing me every Sunday and I don’t want to disappoint him.”

Josh nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Of course I’ll have to ask for permission at the Ministry but I guess you might be able to return early, maybe tomorrow if not today. And I have to check in with Mrs Malfoy before we can leave.”

“Mrs Malfoy!” Harry gasped and asked Laddley, “Does she know? What her husband did to your brother?”

Laddley shook his head.

“Mr Laddley’s statement is confidential, Harry,” Josh explained, “he gave testimony just a few days ago. What’s the use of going public?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Harry said. “But I think Narcissa should know. First of all she’s still married to that bastard. As far as I know, she doesn’t want to be disloyal to her husband, now that he’s imprisoned. But she might reconsider, if she knew. And I’m pretty sure she will want to help your brother financially, Mr Laddley, if the Ministry permits it. Don’t you think that’s worth a try?”

Josh nodded deliberately but Laddley looked unconvinced.

“If you don’t want to repeat the whole story again – which I totally understand by the way,” Harry pressed on, “I could tell her, if you want? Or maybe she could read the official testimony with your consent?”

“I don’t know, Mr Potter,” Laddley said inertly, “this has been a secret for so many years… very few people knew what happened to Tim, only the Healers of St. Mungo’s and Abe… and suddenly it’s part of an official investigation.” He shook his head and sighed. “But maybe it’s a good thing… I’ll think about it, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a tale of past abuse and sexual violence. Stuff like that should not happen, but sadly enough it does.


	42. A Picture Tells a Thousand Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Final Countdown: THREE ... more chapters.

Harry walked upstairs after listening to Laddley’s story. The eighth-years’ dormitory was deserted, all the other students were in class. But after Gregory Laddley’s horrible story Harry didn’t want to stay all alone in his room. His emotions were in uproar. What about Draco? Was he even safe? Draco had sought refuge amongst some Muggle friends of his – but what if they were not trustworthy? What if some greasy bastard took advantage of a handsome young man without a family? The thought alone made Harry feel sick. He had to get back in shape for flying as fast as possible!

Maybe he could swim laps in the afternoon? He had to ask Madame Pomfrey whether the pool’s water would be okay for his skin. But for the moment he needed some company, someone to talk to, preferably about Draco.

He opened the door of the common room and was very disappointed to find the Wizard’s Wood gone and some other, smaller painting in its place. He had so hoped to see Daisy again.

 _She’s been a silent witness of many early morning dates,_ Harry thought, _because that’s what’s actually happened –_ _I’ve been dating Draco Malfoy for weeks and I wasn’t even aware of it!_

As the large painting of Wizard’s Wood belonged to the Headmistress’ sitting room and the enquiry was more or less over – disregarding the painful fact that Draco and Dumbledore’s Imagic were still missing – naturally the painting had been returned to its usual place. Harry stepped closer to look at its replacement. Oh well, he knew that crazy bugger.

“Sir Harry Potter! Most famous knight among wizards! Conquering warrior! Hero of all heroes!” The Imagic cried. Holding the reins of his his fat grey pony he bowed deeply, “Sir Cardogan at your service!”

“Hi,” Harry replied with a grin, “glad to see you too. Actually, I have a request, Sir Cardogan. You know Daisy? Girl in a white dress, with a huge bird for a pet? I’d like to know where she is. Could you search for her?”

“Your wish is my command, Sir Potter!” Sir Cardogan mounted his pony, “A request of courtly love, I presume? Sir Cardogan will find your lady in no time!”

Harry laughed out loudly. “No, of course not! What are you insinuating for Merlin’s sake? Daisy is still a kid – and most certainly not my love but a good friend of mine!”

The Imagic looked offended. “But Sir Potter, in my time, a young lady of her age would undoubtedly have been spoken for!” He shook his head, spurred his pony and trotted out of the painting.

Harry sighed. Now he was all alone. Otto was probably fast asleep… he had sent his pet to the owlery before leaving the hospital wing this morning. Maybe he should pay Narcissa a visit? Or give that damn parchment about potions another try? Pondering his options, he put the kettle on.

When someone giggled behind his back, Harry turned around startled.

“Daisy! And Ariana!” Harry shouted. “Well that was fast!”

“Hello Harry,“ Daisy beamed at him. “We hoped to see you anyway but didn’t want to wait here, next to that strange knight. So we lurked just a painting away, hidden behind curtains until he came to search for me.” She giggled again. “That Sir Cardogan is so, so weird! Always tells ridiculous stories about his exploits. We don’t believe half of it, do we, Ariana?” Daisy pressed her friends hand and Ariana Dumbledore nodded vigorously.

Harry chuckled, “I agree, he might be a bit of an idiot… but at least he tries to make himself useful… I’m afraid he’ll be back soon.”

“Oh no, don’t worry, he’ll be gone for a while,” Daisy looked very pleased with herself, “I told Pinkie to chase him!”

“Pinkie is chasing Sir Cardogan?” Harry raised his eyebrows. That should be a sight to behold!

“Don’t worry, Harry. Pinkie won’t burn anything, as long as he stays in paintings, his temperature keeps low. Professor Flitwick explained it all to me. My Pinkie is just not allowed to leave the canvas area and he knows it.” She nodded. “He’s a good birdie, Harry.”

“That he is,” Harry agreed and silently added, _although his fire very nearly killed me but that was neither his fault nor yours. Time to change the subject, I guess._

“Anyway – I’m glad you made a new friend, Daisy!” he nodded at Ariana. “Must be nice to spend some time with a girl of your own age for a change.”

“Oh it truly is, Harry! Sending Ariana to the castle that night was your best idea ever! How fortunate that she turned up at Bellevue Beach of all places, just where Professor Flitwick made me stay with Pinkie,” Daisy agreed.

The girls smiled fondly at each other before Daisy continued, “Ariana and I have so much in common. We both like to hike, to climb trees and we even share the same taste in books – so we have a lot to talk about!”

Harry froze.

_Did she say ‘talk’?_ _As in speaking?_

“Do you mean to tell me, that Ariana is talking to you?” he held his breath.

“Of course she does, Harry!” Daisy giggled again. “Why wouldn’t she? We’re friends and that’s what friends do, right? I know she doesn’t like to talk to real people, she’s a bit shy, but we often chat all night. We’ve both been lonely before and now… Ariana doesn’t want to go back to the pub, Harry, and the Headmistress promised to ask her brother about it. We so much hope that she’s allowed to stay permanently, just like the naked… I mean, just like Ms Silver.”

“Listen, Daisy and Ariana, I have an idea!” Harry said urgently, “how about I put in a good word for you, talk to Aberforth, find a solution so Ariana can stay – and in return Ariana tells me where her Filia Cup has gone?”

He addressed the other girl directly, “Ariana, I’ve explained this before – we need to find your cup, it’s very, very important to get it back. If you don’t want to talk to me – which is totally okay – why don’t you tell Daisy and she will pass it on to me? How about that?”

Ariana stared at him wide-eyed. She bit her lower lip, then nodded.

Harry exhaled deeply. “Excellent, Ariana, I’m sure your brother – both of your brothers! – will be very proud of you. So whenever you’re ready, tell me or tell Daisy, ok?” He gave her, what he hoped to be an encouraging smile.

Ariana bent closer to her friend and whispered something in Daisy’s ear.

“She says, she doesn’t know the name of the place, but she could draw it, if you want?” Daisy repeated.

“Of course!” Harry secretly hoped that the girl’s abilities to draw were better than his own – otherwise the result wouldn’t be of much help. “You’ve got everything you need? Pencils and paper? Or shall I ask Professor Flitwick to provide stuff?”

The girls passed a glance. “Yes please, we’d like some pencils, paper and water colours as well, if possible?”

 _Well, Daisy sure knows how to make a deal,_ Harry thought with a nod. “He’ll be teaching right now but I’ll ask him at lunch, promise!”

***

Late in the afternoon Harry stood in Professor Flitwick’s office in front of an easel, impatiently waiting for Ariana to finish her drawing. Right after today’s last lesson the charms professor had willingly painted every item Daisy requested into a picture of a homely, light-flooded parlour. Now both girls were sitting at the table in the centre of this room, heads bent down and drawing. Daisy chatted and hummed, but Ariana was totally focused.

“Don’t peek, Harry!” Daisy shouted and covered the sheet in front of her with one hand. “You are making me nervous! And I’m sure Ariana feels the same!”

Harry very much doubted it. Ariana seemed totally consumed by her work which was probably a good sign.

“She’s right, Mr Potter,” Flitwick said, “give the girls some privacy. It’s never helpful to be watched when creating art.” He patted the chair next to him in front of the fireplace. “Come on, have a drink with me! Butterbeer or pumpkin juice – which one is it?”

“Juice please,” Harry said taking a seat. “I admire your patience, Professor!”

Flitwick chuckled. “Albus has been gone for so many months now, one hour more or less hardly matters. But I’m ever so curious where Taurus Malfoy hid the cup! Seeing that he had no place of his own, besides that chamber at the pub, and the cup was nowhere to be found amongst its ruins.”

Harry sipped at his drink. “Tough for Aberforth, that the pub has been destroyed twice in one year! He told me, that he’s determined to rebuild again, as soon as he’s well enough to supervise the construction.”

“Oh, that’ll keep him busy!” Flitwick said. “One day, when you’re old, Mr Potter, remember what I tell you now – the secret of old age is not to give in.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Professor!” Harry said. During the investigation he had seen Professor Flitwick far more often out of class than in previous years. _Old_ _Squeaky’s growing on me,_ Harry thought and smiled.

A sudden knock startled them. Without waiting for an answer the door opened and the Headmistress rushed inside.

“Any news?” she asked, slightly out of breath.

“No, Minerva, not yet. I have just convinced Mr Potter to take a seat and have a little chat until Miss Dumbledore is done with her drawing.” Flitwick said. “Tsk, tsk, you Gryffindors are an impatient lot.”

McGonagall sat down as well. “Spare me your house prejudices!” she snorted. “I am longing to get rid of this ridiculous structure once and for all! Actually I’m close to filing a request to our esteemed board of governors to dissolve the four houses!”

Harry was baffled to hear her talking like that but Flitwick just looked amused.

“You want a drink, Minerva? Mr Potter and I are having pumpkin juice but it sounds, as if you need something more substantial? Firewhisky, I suggest?”

She nodded and immediately took a sip from the glass Flitwick handed her.

“Ah, that’s better. Thank you, Filius. I felt different as long as I was Head of House myself, but now I spend a good deal of my time negotiating the delicate rivalries between houses and that is terribly exhausting! The house structure just feeds a mental concept of ‘ _us versus them’_ – and that’s neither healthy nor helpful.”

“Have you been reading Muggle self-help books again, Minerva? Because that always makes you say things that are quite out of character. Anyway – people are different, my friend, and it is definitely easier to get along with similar spirits!”

McGonagall looking a little bit embarrassed.

“Easier is not always better, Filius,” she replied, “I’ve learned at least as much from people who are very different from myself as from other Gryffindors. Just look at us – you, Pomona and myself!”

Harry was amazed that they were arguing freely in front of him. He had to admit that he felt closer to some members of staff than to most of the students. As if he were one of them… was that strange? He took another gulp of his juice and kept quiet.

“I see your point, Minerva. But surely tradition is something to be valued as well?”

“Oh, spare me the killer argument! _Tradition_! Just look at Harry! How much easier would his life have been without the heavy weight of tradition on his shoulders?!” She shook her head and added, “I sincerely hope, that the four houses will be nothing but a faint memory when you’re headmaster, Harry!”

“What?!” Harry choked. “Headmaster? Me? You’re joking, right?”

“Of course not,” McGonagall said.

Flitwick chuckled. “We all hope you’ll return to the school one day to teach!”

“But… I’m not even a very good student! Surely teachers need an academic mind and I’m more… the practical type. I mean, I love Hogwarts but…”

“Don’t you like to instruct? I always assumed you do, seeing you are such a gifted teacher. Dumbledore’s Army, swimming lessons – we had the impression you thoroughly enjoyed that?” McGonagall asked.

Harry stared at her. Suddenly several things seemed to fall into place. His growing aversion to the Auror Department and the Ministry as a whole, his love for Hogwarts, the joy of being with younger kids – maybe he had to reconsider his career plans?

“I’d like to add, that Auror Training is still a very solid base for anyone who might want to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Flitwick said with a smile, “wouldn’t you agree, Minerva?”

“Most certainly, Filius… any chance of getting my glass topped up?” She smiled at Harry while Flitwick poured the firewhiskey, “How’s your recovery coming along? Matron said you might be ready to fly within a few days – is that true?”

Before Harry had a chance to reply, they were interrupted by an excited cry from the painting.

“Ready!” sang Daisy. “Come and have a loo-ook!”

They all rose and went to the easel. Daisy grinned proudly and held a drawing in front of her chest.

“Oh, Daisy,” Harry groaned with heated cheeks.

“What in Merlin’s name is that?” The Headmistress raised her eyebrows.

“Well, if you ask me, it looks very much like Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy, wearing pyjamas and drinking tea,” said Professor Flitwick, “I want to compliment you on this very accurate drawing, Miss Daisy! You might like to use some water colours, perhaps, to flesh it out?”

“Don’t you like it, Harry?” Daisy looked thoroughly disappointed.

“No, of course I like it, Daisy, I like it very much,” Harry replied hastily, “it’s just… we were expecting to see the place where Ariana’s cup is hidden, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Daisy blinked. “I see. She is also done, aren’t you, Ariana?”

The other girl nodded and held up her drawing.

Harry gasped. Ariana’s scetch was perfect in every detail and it took him just one glace to know exactly where the cup was hidden.


	43. A Well Oiled Imagic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Final Countdown: TWO pending issues - where is Albus Dumbledore's Imagic and where is Draco Malfoy?

“Care for a little outing after dinner? Wiltshire maybe?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione when he sat down at his usual place in the Great Hall half an hour later. He beamed at them before he added, “You are invited as well, Cass.”

All three of them stared at Harry.

“What about me?” asked Ginny. “I’m not wanted?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to keep me company, waiting for their return,” said Harry.

“Could you please explain, what’s going on? Plain English, preferably?” Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I appreciate your good mood, but why should Ron, Cass and I leave the castle after dinner – to go to Wiltshire of all places! – and risk detention?”

“Malfoy Manor is in Wiltshire,” said Cass.

“Exactly,” Harry nodded, “that’s where you’ll be heading to. And you need not fear detention, Hermione, this is an official invitation from the Headmistress. As Madame Pomfrey still believes me to be unfit for Apparation, I’ve been asked to name someone to step in for me – and I took the liberty of giving them three names. McGonagall agreed. It’s going to be quite a large search party anyway, McGonagall, Flitwick, Shacklebolt, Josh and Narcissa.”

“You don’t say!” Ron shouted. “Dumbledore’s Imagic is at Malfoy Manor!”

“So Ariana’s drawing was helpful after all!” said Hermione.

“Most helpful. It took me just one glance and I knew the place. Actually, Ginny – you’ve been there before with me – it’s the little teahouse of the Manor.”

“The pavilion!” cried Cass. “Of course! That’s where all the filial cups and sticks are kept! We've collected about seven hundred items over the centuries and keep them in the pavilion's large display cabinet! It’s part of the Malfoys’ arts collection, the largest assemblage of filial items in Britain,” she explained.

“Yes, that’s what Flitwick said,” Harry nodded, “Taurus Malfoy tried to hide Ariana’s cup in plain sight, hoping the thing would blend in with hundreds of similar pieces there. So – you want to help searching?”

“Of course we’re going!” Ron said. “Why’s the food late today? I need to eat properly or I might drop some china later!”

Ginny snorted. “You’ll probably drop something anyway… I should go in your place, really!”

Hermione laughed. “Yeah, maybe Ginny is right!”

Ron grinned. “You know what? I actually agree. How about I nominate Ginny to replace me and stay back with Harry instead? Okay? I’m really no good with delicate stuff.”

“What does that makes me?” grumbled Hermione to everybody’s amusement.

“Well, my dear, I love you because you’re wonderfully tough!” Ron said smackig his girlfriend’s cheek.

***

Close to midnight Harry and Ron still waited for the search party’s return in the eighth-years’ common room. Ron was stretched out on the Persian carpet in front of the fireplace but Harry lounged on a sofa, keeping his distance to the fire. He had always loved to stare into flames and listen to the soft cracking of smouldering logs, but since the disaster at the pub, he found open fires slightly unsettling. He had felt the same at Flitwick’s office this afternoon. Well, eventually he would get comfortable around a fireplace again.

The other eighth-years had all retreated to their bedrooms a while ago. The sizzle of the fire, Sir Cardogan’s snores and the soft ticking of the tall clock in one corner were the only noises to be heard.

Harry looked at the clock for the umpteenth time – whatever took them so long?

“Hey, relax, mate.” Ron said, “they’ll be alright. A team that includes Hermione and McGonagall won’t ever be in trouble.”

“Seriously?” Harry grinned. “So you don’t think Flitwick, Kingsley and Josh will make much of a difference?”

“Yeah, sure, they’re nice to have, but… the girls won’t need them, right?”

Harry threw back his head and laughed. “I guess our esteemed Headmistress might be indignant over being addressed a girl! And to call the Headauror ‘ _nice to have’_ is a bit of an understatement, don’t you think? But I get your point.”

They grinned at each other.

“How’s your skin? Still itching?” Ron asked.

Harry stretched out his hands for Ron to see them clearly.

“Looks perfectly fine to me,” said Ron.

“Exactly,” Harry said with glee, “mind you, my hands were still flaming red this morning! But Madame Pomfrey suggested some changes to the potion, the Healers gave their consent – and the new recipe works wonders! I think I might even be ready to fly again this weekend! That’s why I didn’t push coming along tonight… better take it easy for now – to be in good enough shape for finding Draco as soon as possible.”

“Brilliant!” Ron shouted, “it’s a shame Hermione won’t be able to come with us, but no way will she manage to fly long distance.”

Harry bit his lips. “Well, actually… don’t take this the wrong way, Ron, but… I’d rather go searching for Draco by myself.”

Ron looked confused. “What do you mean? After all that’s happened at the pub, you won’t be allowed to fly without backup! Forget it, no way!”

Harry groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I’m afraid the Aurors won’t leave me alone… but to see Draco for the first time after weeks, watched by a security team?”

“Yeah, I get it, might be a bit awkward – but your safety is much more important than a slightly embarrassing reunion!”

Harry laughed. “Who would have guessed! Ron Weasley, taking safety measures seriously! I never thought I’d live to see the day!”

“Well, nearly losing my best friend, because the idiot decided to act the lonesome hero – it kind of changed my perspective.” Ron said earnestly.

“Point taken. Honestly, I more than regret the decision to fly to the pub all alone… but… this is different. There’s no evil wizard lurking around anymore! It’ll be nothing more than a tedious long distance flight.”

Ron shook his head. “Maybe… hopefully you’re right – but what about the fact you’ve recently been seriously wounded and unconscious for a full week? Like it or not – you’re still a convalescent, Harry! What if you tire and fall? And even if Taurus Malfoy is out of the picture, don’t you think some other nutter might take the opportunity to attack you? Mate, there’s no denying it – you’re a possible target! At least until the storage situation of the Elder Wand has been improved.”

Harry kept quiet. He had actually wanted to ask Ron to be his fake escort, flying out of Hogwarts together for as long as they were watched, but then going all by himself. But Ron seemed resolved. _He’s a natural team player,_ Harry thought, _that’s why he’ll make an excellent Auror…_

The door creaked and Hermione stepped inside, cheeks flushed and beaming.

“Hi, boys!” she said and slouched onto the carpet, received with an enthusiastic kiss from her lover.

Harry grinned. “I take it your mission was successful – seeing you are quite pleased?”

“Yep, all set and done,” Hermione nodded.

“So the old fart is back where he belongs?” asked Ron.

“Seriously, Ron!” Hermione frowned. “But yes, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore’s Imagic should be back in his frame any minute now. Professor Flitwick took the cup to McGonagall’s office to break the hex.”

“Did Dumbledore explain anything? About the abduction and his time at the pavilion?” Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. “Not yet. You know the hex works like a drug… in fact he seemed a bit tipsy.”

“Albus Dumbledore pissed…” Ron sighed, “pity, we missed that sight.”

Hermione grinned. “Actually that’s very much how he behaved … he recited suggestive limericks for a while – it was quite funny. Even McGonagall chuckled.”

Harry laughed. “Who would have thought?”

Ron gawped at her. “You don’t say! I want to hear every single word of it!”

She cocked her head. “I might remember some of it, if you ask me nicely.”

“Oh, please, Hermione, please!” Ron begged.

She cleared her voice and said in a singsong voice,

> _“A wizard named Willy McLeod  
>  Thought he was quite well endowed  
> He lifted his robes  
> To encourage some jobs  
> And to please the on-looker crowd.”_

Ron and Harry were speechless for a moment, before they exploded with laughter.

“Albus Dumbledore recited that?” Harry gasped. “No fucking way!”

“His Imagic did, not the real man,” Hermione corrected, “but yes.”

“Shit. I shouldn’t have passed my ticket to Ginny,” Ron said, wiping his eyes.

“But what took you so long? I thought the cup would be easy enough to spot.” Harry asked.

“Well, it took some time to get into the site of the Manor. The Auror Department had put special security spells onto the estate for the time of Mrs Malfoy’s absence, which needed to be removed first. When we were finally ready to enter, we split up. Josh and Mrs Malfoy went to the main building to get her settled again and Kingsley checked the park around the pavilion for evidence. He actually found the spot where Taurus Malfoy must have entered – a secret apparition point inside of a hollow tree! It will be removed soon enough but is presently still open – we used it to get back to Hogsmeade!” Hermione looked both pleased and excited. “The best apparition point I’ve ever seen – I wish they would keep it.”

“Sound’s exciting!” Harry felt a pang of regret for having missed out on this adventure.

Hermione continued, “Anyway… McGonagall, Cass, Ginny and me searched inside of the tea house – it’s truly charming by the way, just like you said, Harry. And that show cabinet is huge, hundreds of items stored inside!”

“Who spotted Ariana’s cup?” Harry asked.

“Cass did! We were ever so glad to see Dumbledore’s Imagic again! Then the others joined us for a quick celebration. Mrs Malfoy had the House-elves prepare some snacks and she even opened a bottle of Charmspagne for the occasion.”

“Dirty limericks, food and booze – shit, I’ve missed the whole fun!” Ron complained.

“Instead you’ve enjoyed a nice evening with your best friend, so stop moaning,” said Harry.

Ron yawned. “Yeah, right… I’m ready to go to bed anyway. Bugger, we’ve got a Transfiguration test tomorrow – be grateful you’re still convalescent, Harry! I’m mighty glad that the affair of the missing Imagic is finally over.”

“It’s not over yet – not until Draco is back safe and sound,” Harry said.

“But that’s only a matter of days now, right? Hermione, Harry thinks he might be ready to fly this weekend – isn’t that great?”

“Yes, it most certainly is.” She smiled at Harry. “Anyway, let’s call it a day – I’m tired too.”

Harry extinguished the fire and they rose to leave. They walked along the quiet corridor up to Ron’s door.

“Good night, Harry,” Hermione whispered and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “And there’s something else… Mrs Malfoy says she’s sorry for not saying properly good-bye but she hopes to see you and Draco soon and… she wants you to have this –,“ she pulled something out of her beaded bag, a longish item wrapped in a cloth of grey silk.

Harry’s heart jumped – could that really be what he thought it might? He drew the silk back to reveal a candle stick of fine bone china holding a tiny Imagic – a little boy with blonde hair and soft grey eyes who gave Harry a shy smile and blushed.


	44. The Boy Who Lived Happily Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Final Countdown: ONE task to get done.

_‘Martin McBride’_ read the brass nameplate above the letterbox.

Harry stared at the name. Martin McBride. So that was Draco’s Muggle friend. Harry took another look at the building. The house stood at a crossroad in a residential area, a fine semidetached house with a brick façade surrounded by a well-trimmed garden. The tall pine-tree next to the house was draped in a garland and a wreath at the door added some more seasonal touch. He had not expected Draco’s refuge to be so decent… so middle-class. But this was the place Otto had guided him to. The owl had settled in the top of the pine and was probably fast asleep by now.

After a lengthy discussion with McGonagall and Shacklebolt, Harry had finally accepted the attendance of three Aurors for the flight under the condition, they backed off as soon as he touched down. Josh volunteered to be one of them, the others Harry had not known before. They left Hogwarts in the early hours of Saturday, assuming the flight would take them about five to six hours as Otto had been able to cover the distance twice in one night.

The flight had been smooth enough. At first Otto seemed a little bit distracted by the Aurors but when Harry assured his owl, that their presence was no threat to the remains of secrecy, Otto relaxed and showed no further reluctance to seek out Draco’s hiding place. Harry was amazed by his pet’s ability to understand his words – and to remember their destination.

Thanks to one of Hermione’s long-lasting warming charms, Harry was quite comfortable in spite of the cold night air. Just like he had expected they headed in the direction of Edinburgh for most of the flight, but in the end Otto had led them into the small town of Bonnyrigg, about eight miles south-east of the city centre.

And now Harry stood in front of this house, nervous and quite at loss how to proceed. The Aurors waited in the fields outside of the town for his message. As soon as he had spoken to Draco, Harry was supposed to send his Patronus their way, confirming that everything was alright. Josh had it made perfectly clear, that he expected a message within one hour – otherwise they would come searching for Harry and Draco.

Harry looked at his watch. Six minutes. He had already wasted six precious minutes – but he couldn’t bring himself to ring the bell. Half past seven – wasn’t that way too early to disturb someone on a Saturday morning? Draco would probably be awake but what about his host?

The door of the house opposite of the road opened and Harry turned around. An elderly lady let her cat inside again – the same ginger cat that had hurried outside just minutes ago. Before she closed the door, the woman scanned the area briefly. It was probably a good thing Harry had put on his invisibility cloak, otherwise she might find it a bit odd that he was still standing in front of her neighbour’s house, rooted to the spot.

Harry sighed. Right. He needed to set himself a limit. He would wait for another three minutes and then – he would ring the bell. Harry stepped away from the door and checked once more that his broom was well hidden in the branches of the pine tree, when he heard dogs barking.

A young man jogged around the corner, two well-groomed Shelties on leash. The guy was wearing sweat pants, a hoodie and very dirty trainers. Harry’s heart pounded so fast, as if he had been running and not Draco – because this indeed was Draco Malfoy! Harry could hardly believe his eyes. Draco looked just like your average Muggle teenager – no, not average of course – like an extremely handsome Muggle teenager. In fact Draco looked even better than Harry had ever seen him, relaxed and healthy. He might have gained some weight and it suited him well.

Draco flopped down on the doorsteps and started to untie his shoelaces. The dogs were all over him, one nuzzled his snout into Draco’s armpit, the other tried to lick his face – they obviously loved him. And Draco laughed. Harry’s heart leapt at the sound of it – he had so missed hearing Draco laugh! Harry was just about to take off his invisibility cloak when another man jogged along and joined Draco.

So this must be Martin McBride. Harry gulped. The man was tall and broad shouldered, had dark hair and a strong chin – in fact he was as handsome as a Muggle film star. Harry didn’t like the looks of him one bit.

 _He’s far too old for Draco,_ Harry thought outraged, _he must be at least forty!_

The fake film star said something Harry didn’t understand, but made the dogs bark excitedly. Draco laughed again – _and the man reached out and ruffled Draco’s hair!_

Harry closed his eyes. His worst fear seemed to be true. Draco had not returned because he was perfectly happy in his exile. Perfectly happy with Mr Martin McBride, the fucking fake film star! Harry was angry, so very angry. He wanted to slap himself, hex McBride and drag Draco back to Hogwarts – but of course he would do neither. Instead he drew deep breaths to calm himself and watched silently as Draco, McBride and both dogs went inside.

The door snapped in its lock. Harry gulped and tried to focus, in spite of his jealousy and outrage. Draco still had to be informed, to know what had happened and that he could return safely to Hogwarts – if he wished. But Harry need not necessarily be the one to deliver that message. He could call for Josh instead. The young Auror would certainly be willing to take over and ring the bell. 

No, Harry was not going to chicken out of this. He had encouraged Draco to hide, so it was his call to tell Draco the threat was over. Harry pulled off the cloak and stepped to the door. Just minutes before he had been afraid to disturb the sleep of Draco’s host – well apparently that he need not fear for. Would Draco be at least a little bit pleased to see Harry? Or rather disappointed? And what if McBride opened the door?

He inhaled deeply and pressed the button.

Immediately the dogs barked again.

“Silence!” commanded a deep voice. Apparently Mr McBride knew how to handle his dogs because the barking stopped immediately.

“Coming!” shouted the same voice as before.

Harry braced himself, the door opened slowly and –

“Good morning!” said Father Christmas, “how can I help you?”

Harry blinked. Of course this was not Father Christmas. Just a middle aged man with a white beard and a slight belly. But his rosy cheeks and the bright red sweater he was wearing – with a snowflake print! – tricked Harry into expecting to be asked whether he had been naughty or nice. Harry blinked again and was quite lost for words.

Fake Father Christmas looked concerned. “Are you in trouble, lad? We can talk about it if you want…”

Harry shook his head, “No! No, I’m fine, thanks… I’d just like to speak to Draco, please.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but looks like you’ve got the wrong door, my friend. There’s no Draco in this house.”

“But I just saw him! He went inside with… with the dogs! Blonde, tall, handsome?”

“Oh! I see,” the bearded man smiled. “You’re talking about David? I’m not sure he’s expecting a visitor – but I’ll ask him. What’s your name again, lad?”

“Harry.”

“All right, Harry… – hold on a minute! Not Harry Potter, by chance?!” the man grinned broadly. “Don’t tell me you’re famous Harry Potter?”

“You know who I am?” Harry asked back. How could a Muggle he had never seen before be familiar with his name?

“Of course I do, love,” was the answer, “David has been talking his head off about you ever since we have known him.”

“Oh. Right.” Harry rubbed his neck.

“He’ll be absolutely thrilled to see you, Harry – please come in!” He held the door open and said, “I’m Odie by the way.”

When Harry followed him into the hall, the dogs immediately came to nose at his legs.

“Bed!” shouted Odie and the dogs retreated to a rug under the stairs, whimpering and wagging tails.

“I don’t mind,” said Harry, “I love dogs.”

“But you might not love their filthy paws. They’ve just returned from a walk in the dirt… Frank – that’s my husband – it’s his turn to clean them.” Odie stopped at the foot of the staircase and shouted upstairs, “Frank!? Do you hear me? Don’t forget about the dogs!”

“They’re really well behaved, your dogs,” said Harry.

“Thanks, I’ll take credit for that. If it were up to Frank, the girls – they’re Arwen and Eowyn by the way – would be totally spoiled. Well, what else is to be expected from a vet!” Odie snorted.

“Arwen and Eowyn,” Harry repeated, “just like…?”

“Yeah, exactly – David’s suggestion of course. His favourite book… such a huge fan he is.” Odie chuckled.

Then he opened the door to the kitchen. “I’m just preparing breakfast – and you must join us, Harry!”

“Thank’s, that’s very kind – but I don’t want to bother you…” Harry said but his stomach had other plans and rumbled audibly.

Odie gave a laugh and said, “I’ll take that as a yes, love! This is not up for discussion anyway.”

Harry was only a little bit embarrassed. The kitchen was cosy, it smelled fantastic and he was very hungry indeed. “Thank you,” he said.

Odie reached for the largest teapot Harry had ever seen. “Take a seat and have a cup – we could chat a bit while waiting for David and Frank, if you like?”

Harry sat down, sipped his tea and tried to digest the news – so Draco went by the name of David and stayed with Odie and Frank, a middle aged gay couple? How had that happened? And who was Martin McBride?

Odie started to cut some peppers and mushrooms. “I hope you’re not too hungry, Harry? We’ll have to wait for Frank and David. They’re both very peculiar with their personal hygiene and take ages for a shower! If this house didn’t have three bathrooms, I’d probably brush my teeth at the sink every morning.” Odie grinned. “I guess that’s the price one has to pay for a handsome partner.”

Harry had no idea what to say to that and just smiled back.

“So while they spruce up – will you tell me what’s going on? Why you are here? David has always been very secretive about school… I just know that you attend some posh boarding school and the two of you didn’t get along for years – which pained David more than he would ever admit, but I guessed as much. Alas, this year you became… friends? Is that right?”

“We’re… yes, we’re friends… and then some, I hope,” Harry admitted, “it just happened recently and then Draco… sorry, David had to leave…”

Odie beamed at Harry. “That is so lovely, Harry! And what a sweet pet name for David! Draco – how cute is that!”

Harry blushed and cleared his voice. “The good news is – and that’s why I’ve come –David’s problem at school has been solved, he can return any time.”

“That’s excellent news, Harry! David will be delighted! He told us, that he had been temporarily suspended and needed to get away from school for some time.” Odie put a cutting board with a loaf of bread on the table that made Harry’s mouth water.

“Is that home-made? It smells so good.”

“Yes, it’s fresh from the oven, still hot. I’m a bit picky with my bread, that’s why I always bake on Saturday mornings.” Odie took a seat next to Harry and refilled both their cups.

“Now, what about you, dear? You’re alright? I hope your family is not giving you a hard time for being gay?”

Harry scratched his head. He didn’t want to talk about his deceased parents… but the Weasleys most certainly had proved to be very supportive. “They’re okay… more than okay, great actually! Of course it helps that I’ve got an elder brother who’s gay as well.”

“A role model in the family, huh? That’s good!” Odie smiled. He actually smiled a lot, but it still felt genuine. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you seem tense? Nervous to see your sweet-heart again? Or is it something else?”

“Yeah, I might be a bit nervous and –” Harry hesitated before he blurted, “I just wonder… I had no idea… with whom Draco was staying, you know?”

“He didn’t tell you about us?”

Harry shook his head.

“Well, we’re a boring old couple, Frankie and I. Frank’s a vet and I’m a social worker, mainly doing school counselling. In a way, that’s how we met David, because I mistook him for one of my students. You know David’s cousin, Cass?”

Harry nodded.

“Three years ago, a friend of ours decided to celebrate his birthday at a club. Frankie and I rarely go to gay bars but for that occasion we went. It was fun, actually… until late at night the owner of the club asked for my help. He said that there was a boy with a false ID at the bar who seemed far too young for this place and he wanted to make sure the kid was alright, before he sent him away. Someone had told him that I work with young people and that’s why he addressed me.

He took me to his office – and I nearly got a heart attack when I saw the kid! I said, ‘ _Cass! What are you doing here? You’re not old enough for this place!’_ I thought Cass must be a trans-boy and why hadn’t he ever told me?

“I had met Cass while supporting queer kids at her school… and to see her –or him!– in this place, all upset and fragile! Of course I realized my mistake as soon as David started to talk… and that’s how we became friends. So whenever he came to stay with Cass and her aunt, he’d visit us now and then, to take the girls for a walk or just to hang out at our house. I think he quite liked to see a different sort of gay life from the clubbing scene. For some reason he never wanted me to tell Cass and of course I respected his wish.

“Frankie and I, we don’t have children of our own, but we still try to support young people. We’ve had several kids staying with us for a while, and not just queer kids… a refugee girl from Iraq for example and others who needed temporarily a safe place to live. David knew about that, so naturally he turned up a few weeks ago when he was suspended and didn’t want to go home either. I insisted that he told his mum, of course.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Harry said, “good to have friends one can turn to… thank you for everything you did for Dra – David.”

Odie smiled warmly at Harry, “You’re welcome, dear. In fact… you’re just as welcome as David at our house, understood?”

The door opened and two very excited and obviously clean Shelties darted at Harry. He laughed and dropped down to the floor to cuddle them.

“We’ve got a visitor, Frankie!” Odie shouted over the barking and whining of the dogs. “And you’ll never guess who he is!”

Harry glanced at the door. Yes, just like he had expected by now, Frank was no other than Fake Film Star. His smile was as warm as Odie’s if a bit dazzling.

“Good morning,” Harry said, still petting the dogs.

“A very good morning to you too,” said Frank in a surprisingly bright voice. “Have we met before?”

Harry shook his head and stuttered. “No, sir, I’m a friend of… I’m Draco’s… I mean, David’s–“

“Harry!”

Right after Frank, Draco entered the kitchen. He froze and stared at Harry in total surprise, white as a sheet for a second – then flushing violently.

Harry rose and smiled. Heart pounding, he said, “Hi Draco!” and made a tentative step – until Draco flung himself at Harry.

They hugged – and it was simply wonderful. Harry exhaled deeply. No, he need not have worried. Draco was definitely not annoyed by his visit.

“You’ve come!” Draco whispered. “It’s been nearly a month… I’ve started to fear I might never see you again, Mr Potter!”

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” Harry said, “but now everything’s fine – you’re safe to return.”

Still hugging Draco tightly, Harry heard Frank say, “Don’t tell me, this is famous Harry Potter?”

“The man himself,” Odie confirmed with a sigh, “don’t they make the cutest couple?”

“Famous Harry Potter? I’ve never heard that one before,” Draco muttered under his breath.

Harry chuckled. He was most likely at the only Muggle house worldwide where somebody called him _‘famous Harry Potter’_!

***

One hour later Harry was completely and utterly happy. He sat next to Draco, they rested their knees against each other under the table and whenever he looked at Draco he was rewarded with a warm smile – a smile, that was heart throbbing, breath stealing and did very funny things to the rest of his body too.

Apart from that he was full to the brim. Odie’s fresh bread had been accompanied by bacon and eggs, fried mushrooms and peppers, home-made marmalade and in the end a slice of rich chocolate cake – which gave Harry a pretty good idea why Draco might have gained some weight in bareley a month.

Just in time Harry had remembered to inform Josh. He had excused himself under the pretext of having to call at school and got out of the house. The back garden was secluded enough for Harry to conjure his Patronus unspotted, thus preventing three guys in weird clothes from disturbing this perfectly respectable Muggle neighbourhood.

Harry liked this place very much. He felt extremely comfortable and relaxed in this kitchen, in the company of their hosts although he had just met them. Odie and Frank joked and laughed a lot, in fact their constant teasing reminded him of Ron and Hermione. Frank shared stories from his work – pet owners seemed to be a funny species all by themselves. The dogs snored under the table and Harry just wanted to stay in this cosy place forever.

“So, what are your plans for today, boys?” Odie asked. “Harry, you have to know, that Frankie and I are going to Glasgow for the weekend, to attend my niece’s wedding. Before you turned up, the idea was that David would stay at home and watch the girls for us – can’t bring along two naughty dogs to a wedding, can you?”

“They’re not naughty,” Frank protested, “my dogs are excellently trained and superbly behaved!”

“Is that so? Well, in that case, it is most certainly none of your doing,” Odie deadpanned.

Harry chuckled.

“Stop laughing, Harry,” said Draco, “you don’t want to encourage them! They can go on like that for ages – I’ve come to suspect they’re actually stand-up comedians in disguise. And excellent at procrastinating. They’ll be late and all in a hurry – and then they’ll blame us.”

“Don’t you get fresh with me, young man,” Odie said with a mock frown. “What was I saying? Ah – the question remains, do you still want to sit the girls, David, or would you rather go back to school immediately? We could ask the neighbours instead. But if you consider staying until we return tomorrow, Harry is welcome to keep you company of course.”

Harry bit his lips to refrain from grinning broadly and his pulse quickened at the prospect of a weekend in undisturbed togetherness.

But Draco frowned.

“Let me get that straight. You’re asking me, if I want to spend the weekend with my boyfriend and two cute dogs at your house? When I have the chance to go back to school at once, no doubt to be interrogated by the Headmistress and get myself buried under tons of missed lessons? Hmm… I’ve got to think about that carefully.”

Harry blinked. _He must be joking, right?_

Just to make sure he said, “I’d like to stay very much! Because… because I’ve never been to Edinburgh before… we could go to the city center and you could show me around a bit?”

Draco sighed. “Well, then that’s settled. We’ll stay so Harry can do a bit of sight-seeing.”

Harry stared at him incredulously – and was immensely relieved when Draco winked at him and the others grinned. He assumed that everybody around the table knew exactly what Harry and Draco would be up to as soon as the door closed behind their hosts.

“Just… don’t forget to let the dogs out, into the garden, David, if you can’t be bothered to leave the house,” said Odie confirming Harry’s thoughts.

Harry cleared his voice and said – merely to change topic, “Right. Who’s Martin McBride by the way? The previous owner?”

Frank chuckled. “No, Harry, that’s us – Frank Martin and Odie McBride. The name plate was a gift from our friends… it’s a joke, really.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Comedians, right?”

“You know what? I’m starting to reconsider the offer – maybe it is better you do get back to school right away – all those missed lessons, remember?” said Odie.

Draco rose and cleared his voice. “Forget what I said. I volunteer to do the dishes… need to show Harry how the dishwasher works. Meanwhile you two might want to dress up and pack?”

“What?” Frank looked affronted at his jumper which was equally red as Odie’s but with a reindeer pattern. “You think this isn’t smart enough for a wedding?”

Harry laughed. “I think your jumpers are brilliant.” Feeling bold he added, “If I ever get married, I’ll invite you and you’ll have to wear exactly that, even if it’s spring!”

Draco snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Mr Potter! Remind me of that arrangement before you propose – it’ll make me reconsider.”

And then Draco leaned closer and kissed Harry.

*** The End ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely Readers -  
> Thank you for sticking with my story until *The End*!  
> Thank you for all of your comments, those you have left already and those you might add now! ;)  
> Thank you for your encouragment and support - I am truely grateful.  
> Take care and read on!  
> Yours truely Auntie


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